Book IV: The Sphere
by MichiRini
Summary: Guardians of Time continues where the Key left off, but starts in the year 1400. The Princess of France is going on her first mission to take the sphere from Atlantis, but then she starts pushing buttons... EthanOC, ArkarianIsabel, MattNeriah
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

I now know why my parents had insisted on keeping me a secret: they had known that their cause was destined to fail. They had known that they were going to fail, and that they were going to die in their efforts. I am to be their last legacy to the world.

I beckon the courier to come closer with a flick of my hand. Here in the underworld, in my father's palace, the only ones to know about me have been a select group of wren that my father knew would never betray him or my mother. Although now that my parents are dead, I have used the past six years to establish myself among their remaining soldiers – the ones still alive from the final battle with the Named. Of course, some of them did not want to fight any more for the cause they had been a part of for so long. I killed the ones that showed this resistance, as well as the ones who doubted my parentage.

Then again, I guess it would be difficult to believe that I am the child of the Goddess of Chaos and her disfigured lover, Marduke; not many of her soldiers ever lived long enough to remember the nine months when Mother's figure had not been as slim as it was before her death.

At my command, the courier repeats his message. I listen to his report as I stare out the window, looking at my father's gardens. The courier tells me that they have opened the portal to my commanded date, and that my soldiers are ready to leave. They wait only for my command. I nod at the courier, who leaved to tell the soldiers to proceed.

For my revenge to proceed, I must first break apart the Named. Then I will continue with the Tribunal itself. But in the meantime, I must sow a seed of discord among them. In the meantime, I will live among them.


	2. Chapter One: Renate

**Chapter One: Renate**

'Are you ready!'

I shake my head, laughing at my Trainer. I think Arkarian is more excited about this mission than I am! It's going to be his first time sending anyone into the past and monitoring them from the Citadel. And I guess it doesn't help that the first person he has to send is the Princess of France!

'What have I forgotten?' Arkarian asks, absorbing my thoughts as usual. How can a 45-year-old, even a 45-year-old who looks like an 18-year-old, be THIS nervous? Usually Arkarian manages to keep his emotions from getting the better of him, but we're both a little nervous; this is my first mission!

I point up at the ceiling, reminding Arkarian about the magical knowledge dust he's been telling me to remind him about for the past week. Geez, I'm twenty years younger than him and I'm more on top of things than he is!

The dust suddenly starts falling on me in huge torrents. It stops short, and from underneath all that glimmering dust I manage a glare.

'Sorry, highness!' Arkarian apologizes instantly and bows low.

I raise him quickly, assuring him yet again that he should just call me by my name; it seems a bit silly for my Trainer to bow to me and call me by my title.

I brush off the dust while Arkarian drills me about my mission: I am going to Atlantis, on the last day of its existence. My mission is to retrieve the sphere that opens the portals to the past, before it is destroyed with the rest of the ancient city.

'Make sure you bring it back undamaged!' Arkarian warns me for perhaps the eleventh time since I've arrived at the Citadel. 'Now. Who are you?'

I call on the knowledge this magic dust has given me and reply, not in my native French, but in perfect English: 'I am a priestess at the temple where the sphere is kept. My name, should anyone think to ask about with a tidal wave coming any minute, is Rochelle.' I immediately fall in love with the name Rochelle; it has a beautiful yet dangerous quality to it.

'And if anyone presses you for further information…?' Arkarian asks nervously, thinking I've forgotten.

Before he can dump more dust on me, I answer quickly: 'The gods have sealed my lips; I'm sorry but they do not permit me to answer any more questions.'

Arkarian smiles, pleased. I still can't believe how nervous he is! His sapphire blue eyes are dancing in his head, and he can't seem to stop running a hand through his short black hair.

I make sure Arkarian hasn't forgotten anything else: we had stopped to get my disguise – the body I am borrowing is that of a physically fit woman, with sun-tanned skin and thick, long red curls – shortly after I had arrived at the Citadel, I had been given the magic dust, and Arkarian and I now stand in front of a door to a dark unknown. I assure Arkarian that he has not forgotten anything else and turn to leap, mentally preparing myself, a girl from thirteenth century France, to actually visit the lost city of Atlantis…


	3. Chapter Two: Renate

**Chapter Two: Renate**

I get the landing all wrong and tumble through the cracked and damaged street. Choking on dust and brushing dirt off of my priestess's robes, I look up to see the temple I need to reach – the temple that currently holds the sphere.

I stumble up the marble steps and into the temple. It's not until I enter the cavernous marble hallway leading to the inner chamber that I begin to hear some pretty strange sounds: small explosions, mostly, and a whole lot of shouting. I quicken my pace and enter the inner chamber to witness the ending of a battle:

Two boys and a girl, all three of them adolescents, are fighting another young girl and a beautiful woman who could only be the Goddess of Chaos herself; who else would have purple lips? Right now one of the boys, with short brown hair and blue eyes, is being kicked by a rapidly moving girl who is taking instructions from the Goddess. The other boy, with brown hair down to his earlobes and brown eyes as well, is matching his powers against the Goddess – and actually doing quite well! The girl, on the other hand, is attempting to keep her hands on a spherical piece of machinery – the sphere! Did the Tribunal send a team in right before me? Why would they? Although, I'm not complaining; I would have really hated being in their positions, except I would have been alone. And only one of my powers has emerged so far: my ability to act as a human magnet. Not very helpful if I had to go one-on-one with the Goddess of Chaos…

The girl fighting for the Goddess suddenly stops punching out the brunette boy and moves on to the girl holding the sphere. This girl goes down almost immediately, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets as she goes down. Right before she plunged them into her coat, I noticed that the girl's hands were electrified; sending out tons of tiny multi-colored sparks! But now that the girl's hands are in her pockets, the sphere drops to the ground – only to go floating through the air towards the recovered blue-eyed boy. He holds onto the sphere for maybe a minute before the speedy girl kicks him in the stomach, and then he drops the sphere.

Taking the chance that these people are my back-up or something, I quickly dash out and grab the sphere before retreating into the dark shadows to inch my way out of the temple. I almost make it to the exit before I notice that water is pooling around my ankles; the temple is being flooded! I look back to see the girl with electric hands arguing with the brown-eyed boy before she runs out of the temple, not even noticing me in her hurry to get out. The blue-eyed boy is unconscious, lying pale on the cold marble floor. I turn to run out of the temple before I am killed by the tidal wave. The sphere safely tucked into my priestess's robes, I almost make it to high ground before the tidal wave hits. The force of the wave propels me in a direction opposite the way I was going, and I end up clutching tightly to the roof of the temple. A little farther out ahead I can see the girl, her sizzling hands keeping her perched on the small bit of land she is sitting on. I watch her for a while, and notice that the longer she stares into the water, the more distressed she becomes. Where are her male companions? And where did the Goddess and her warrior go?

Suddenly, a dolphin breaks the surface of the newly-formed lake (although the way the water is continuing to rise, it will probably be an ocean in a few weeks) with the blue-eyed boy lying across its back. The dolphin deposits the boy onto the small bit of land the girl is waiting on and then turns into the boy with brown eyes!

Now the girl appears very distressed, and she should be; the blue-eyed boy's lips are turning blue! Despite her obvious concern, the girl lowers her head to the boy's and begins resuscitating him. Moments later, the boy awakens and spits out a lot of water before looking gratefully up at his friends.

Having seen enough, I open my mouth to go home.

'_Arkarian!_' Startled, I turn back to the three companions just in time to see them disappear! But they had called Arkarian, who is monitoring MY mission! Why is he taking _them_ back to the Citadel!

My mind quickly begins to think of various explanations for this. Maybe it is possible to monitor multiple missions at once! I go with this theory, and decide to give Arkarian a few minutes before calling for him myself. In the meantime…

I extract the sphere from my now wet priestess's robes and examine it: it is a rather tiny bit of crystal, until I toss it roundly into the air – and it suspends itself at the exact right height for a person of my stature. Suddenly, the crystal sends out a holographic projection of itself, appearing maybe three times larger than it had been a few moments ago.

I remember the sphere in Arkarian's chambers, and reach out to touch the holographic projection. As soon as my finger makes contact with the sizzling air surrounding the sphere, the hologram spins. The only thing is: the sphere in Arkarian's chambers usually spins to the left, but this one is currently spinning to the right. Why is this? Are all spheres made to spin in different directions?

The sphere abruptly stops spinning, projecting an image of a group of adults conversing, their body languages indicating the seriousness of this meeting. Their clothes are unusual; the women are not wearing gowns or dresses or even robes, but are wearing denim pants and shirts like the men! It must be horribly uncomfortable to be wearing those men's garments. I gratefully spread my wet priestess's robe.

Looking carefully at the image, I recognize older versions of the brown- and blue-eyed boys. There is no girl, but I identify another member of this gathering. His hair is another color than the last time I saw it, and much longer, but what more do I need! I poke the image with a fingertip, the way Arkarian did to the sphere in his chambers before sending me back to the palace to transfer to the Citadel in my sleep, and a dark doorway similar to those in the Citadel immediately opens to my right. The only thought that runs through my head as I make my jump is: Why is Arkarian's hair so different?


	4. Chapter Three: Ethan

**Chapter Three: Ethan**

Following my instinct, I pull Neriah out from the center of Arkarian's chambers – just in time to prevent a woman in wet robes from toppling on top of her, seemingly out of nowhere. The woman, wet curls shaking from the impact of her fall, lands gracefully on her feet before raising her hands triumphantly, bellowing, 'I DID IT! I LANDED!'

Every member of the Named is shocked. I instantly go on the defensive, even though no one has accused me of anything yet: 'It wasn't me, I swear! I can create OBJECTS, not people!'

But it's not me that our 'leader pure of heart' turns to; instead, Matt turns to Arkarian and begins shouting at him. 'ARKARIAN!' Matt yells, magnifying his voice just to show off his power. 'WHO is this girl, WHERE did she come from, WHY did you invite her, and WHY is she all wet?' Neriah moves to lay a hand gently on Matt's shoulder, instantly calming him down.

Arkarian looks just as curious as Matt does, although infinitely more tranquil about it. He takes a step forward, only to be propelled backwards by the strange woman's sudden embrace.

'Arkarian!' she screeches into his ear. 'Arkarian, I did it! I completed my mission AND I landed properly! Did you see me? Why is your hair blue? And longer? And why are your eyes violet? What happened to you?' Then the woman turns and notices me and Matt. I guess she decides to move on to me next, because she comes forward to stand in front of me and begins talking incredibly quickly. 'Oh, I'm so glad you made it! I thought you had drowned back there, you know… although you did look a bit younger then… And how did you get to be dry? After that tidal wave, I would've figured you'd be wet for at least a day or two! And YOU!' she exclaims, moving to stand before Matt. 'How did you transform into that dolphin and back again? Is it one of your skills, or can it be taught to anyone? Because I think it would be a very useful thing to be able to do, you know? And how come you're not dead? You were fighting the Goddess of Chaos, and yet here you stand! What are your skills?' Not giving Matt a chance to answer any of her numerous questions, the woman approaches Isabel and Neriah, who have taken sanctuary in a far corner. The woman points at the girls' legs and asks, confused, 'Aren't those uncomfortable?'

It takes a moment for everyone to realize that she's talking about Neriah's and Isabel's jeans.

Arkarian steps forward and gently tilts the woman's face towards his, looking deeply into her eyes. He surprises all of us by sinking to one knee, eyes wide. I can't help but laugh at Matt's reaction to having someone doing a reverence to someone other than him; he's got his hands on his hips and is staring wide-eyed from Arkarian to the woman.

Arkarian raises his head to look the woman in the face. 'Your highness! Why are you – how did you – where is your real body?'

The woman raises Arkarian quickly and commands him to address her by her name. This has us all speechless; no one commands Arkarian except Dartemis and Matt and the Tribunal!

I come up to look deeply into the woman's eyes for myself. Instantly I am falling into twin pools of brilliant green. I squint my eyes and suddenly her soul's true shape reveals itself: the woman's true body is pale, as if she doesn't spend much time in the sun, and her hair is pencil-straight and as black as the black irises that used to grow in Marduke's gardens… she is radiant. Although her eyes look familiar, but I don't remember from where. I KNOW I have never met this woman before. I'm certain I would have remembered someone THIS eccentric and curious.

'How do you know me?' I ask her.

The woman looks at me as if I am the most retarded person in all the worlds. 'Atlantis!' she replies simply. 'You and the boy with brown hair and the girl with electric hands were there, helping me to obtain the sphere!' I take a step back and lower my eyes at her mention of Rochelle; even though it's been six years since her death, it still hurts me to think about her… I know there was more that I could have done to save her life. I could have pushed her out of the way; I could have let Isabel come with me when I went to chase after Rochelle, seeing she was upset; I could have even let her go off alone and she might still be alive; my third skill should have picked up the danger, anyway! If it wasn't for me, Rochelle might still be alive…

'What's your name?' Neriah asks cautiously. Unlike me, Neriah tends to reserve her trust for people until she knows them well.

The woman looks confusedly to Arkarian, seeking help of some kind. Arkarian flicks a quick, worried look at me and urges the woman to give her real name instead of her false one.

'Call me Renate; I am a princess of France, so my whole name would probably be too long and complicated for you to pronounce.'

'Try me.' Jimmy steps out from the niche in the wall where he has been sitting all this time. Jimmy is good with tricks of all sorts, but he is an expert at traps. But it's still rare that anyone will dare to challenge him with any sort of riddle.

Renate suddenly rattles off a long line of vowels and consonants, arranging them into slippery-sounding syllables. It takes her a whole minute and a half to finish reciting her whole name, but Jimmy smiles confidently once she finishes. He stuns her by reciting the name, sound-for-sound (I seriously doubt there were any actual names or words in there).

'So who are all of you?' Renate asks. She smiles at Arkarian. 'Of course I know who YOU are… but who's she?' Renate points at Isabel.

Arkarian wraps his arms proudly around Isabel and smiles into her face, and it takes him a moment to remember that he still needs to answer Renate's question. 'This is my new wife, Isabel. Isabel, may I present my first ever Apprentice: Princess Renate of France.'

The whole room erupts into noise. There are cries of 'First EVER?', 'How old ARE you, girl!', and noises of general surprise. But the loudest voice is Renate's: 'Your WIFE! Wait a minute: when am I! What's with the long blue hair and violet eyes?'

'Your highness,' Arkarian begins, earning himself a wince from Renate for using her title instead of her nickname. 'It has been over six hundred years since your mission to Atlantis… My hair and eyes have changed naturally over time. And as for Isabel, she is my soul-mate.'

'But could you please tell me how Arkarian looked six hundred years ago!' Isabel asks eagerly.

'He's a lot more interesting-looking now. Before, he just had short black hair and sapphire blue eyes.' Renate suddenly looks critically at Arkarian. 'Yeah, that's about all that's changed about him. But then, he can't age past 18. Did he tell you that?'

'Yeah,' Isabel replies, laughing softly. 'I have the same skill now; it was granted to me by Lorian when I was sixteen.'

'And how old are you now?'

'I am the youngest here. I am 24. Ethan, Matt, Dillon, and Neriah,' Isabel lists off all of us younger members of the Named, pointing to each of us as she says our names, 'are all 25. Arkarian is something over 600, and Shaun and Jimmy are each somewhere in their mid-fifties. No one wants to ask how old they really are, out of politeness.'

'Hey, Dad!' I cry out sarcastically. 'How old are you?' Everyone laughs lightly.

Dad smiles at me mockingly. 'I'll be turning 19 next week,' he replies, his tone matching my own. This brings the house down, and the whole room erupts into chuckles.

Renate, on the other hand, looks at Dad seriously. She asks, without a trace of any joking manner in her voice, 'Oh, so one of your skills is aging in reverse? I'm sorry!' Everyone laughs now, but I can tell that Renate truly believes what she said.

But Renate doesn't seem to care. She turns to Arkarian and asks, 'So when do we continue training?' This brings everyone back to reality. Renate is not supposed to be here, and yet she is. Who knows what damage this could be doing to history? This is the Princess of France, for God's sake!

'Well…' Arkarian turns to look at me, and then looks back at Neriah. 'I would really like to personally research your history, to make sure no changes have been made to history yet, and to find a way to send you back to your own time period. But perhaps Ethan would like to take over as your Trainer…'

I look skeptically at Renate. Training her will be so different from training Isabel and Matt; unlike them, she looks as if she has not had to lift much more than a quill in her entire life. I look at her face, and suddenly I know why her eyes look so familiar: they are Rochelle's eyes.


	5. Chapter Four: Renate

**Chapter Four: Renate**

Ethan shakes his head and pulls his eyes away from mine, and suddenly I am able to breathe again. This happened the first time he looked into my eyes too, but I had not thought anything of it. At least now I know that I wasn't temporarily insane or anything!

Arkarian urges Ethan to take over as my Trainer, but I am confused. 'Lorian never used to allow people to switch Trainers…' Arkarian's eyes drop to the floor.

'My father was killed by Lathenia six years ago,' he explains, but _what_ this explains is still a mystery.

Arkarian's wife, Isabel, notices my confusion. She comes to whisper lightly in my ear, 'Lorian was Arkarian's father. Lorian and Lathenia killed each other the day the original Citadel fell; when the Prophecy was fulfilled.'

'Oh, so you guys are the Named mentioned in the Prophecy!' I begin to get excited. 'Where are each of you mentioned?'

Matt, the brown-haired boy from Atlantis, clears his throat. 'I am the leader pure of heart.'

'Jester who shall protect!' Jimmy calls out from his little nook.

'Ageless yet ancient,' Isabel says, pointing to Arkarian, 'and led by light and strength.' Arkarian's wife points to herself.

'I was the lost warrior who returned,' supplied Shaun, apparently Ethan's father.

'Seeded of evil,' adds Neriah for herself, to everyone's entertainment. 'My father was Lathenia's lover, and he murdered Ethan's sister and his… you know, you never really told us what happened between you and Rochelle before Marduke killed her.'

I open my mouth to shout 'No, I'm right here! My alias is Rochelle!' but am interrupted by Ethan before I can draw breath.

'I am the brave young warrior who lost his heart to death,' he explains in a flat voice. 'I loved her.'

The room goes deathly silent. Ethan's eyes meet mine and my breath catches again. I blush and turn away when I remember that, instead of my normal layers of petticoat, laces, and silk, I am wearing only wet robes. I begin to shiver; Matt flicks his hand and suddenly a silvery cloak appears in it. He tosses the cloak to me and I wrap it around myself, grateful for its warmth and cover.

'So…' I say nervously, trying to end the long silence. Turning to the man called Dillon, I ask, 'What's your part in the Prophecy?'

Dillon scowls at me and I regret my question. Everything had been going so well! Why did I need to ruin everything by asking that question?

'I am not mentioned in the Prophecy,' Dillon replies coldly. Then he looks into my eyes and his features soften considerably. What does he see in my eyes?

'Ethan, you begin training Renate _now_.' Matt looks sternly at my new Trainer, who glares angrily back at the leader pure of heart. Matt puts his hands over his ears and says calmly to Ethan, 'Calm down, Ethan. Yes, I noticed it too. Just do it, Ethan! Arkarian and I have both told you to train Renate and you're going to do it… unless, of course, you want me to take away your wings…'

'You can't!' Ethan protests, eyes widening to reveal sky blue irises.

'I am an Immortal, Ethan; you could never live long enough to see all that I can do.'


	6. Chapter Five: Ethan

**Chapter Five: Ethan**

I glare at Matt for a second before grabbing Renate's hand to drag her out of Arkarian's chambers. The whole way down to the lake, Renate does nothing but complain about the way I am treating her. When we finally reach the lake I used to train Isabel and Matt by, I finally pay some attention to her.

'You don't have to be my Trainer if you don't want to, you know!' Renate screams at me.

'No,' I reply, trying to soften my anger; I have no reason to be angry with Renate. 'I really do.'

'Just because that guy Matt said so?' Renate screams but blocks the sudden punch I aim at her head. I allow myself a moment of shock at her reflexes before following up with another practice blow to her stomach; she blocks this one just as well as my previous one.

'Matt is not just "some guy",' I explain, continuing the exercise. 'Matt is one of the highest members of the Tribunal. His only superior is Dartemis himself, and sometimes Matt even rebels against _him_.' I explain who Dartemis is when I briefly see her look of confusion before she covers it with a well-placed high block. 'After Lorian died, Dartemis returned from his happy little prison and took Lorian's place, even rebuilding the Citadel. Matt just rebels against him because Dartemis is his father.'

We fight in silence for a while before Renate finally asks, 'Why are you hitting me?'

'I'm training you.'

'But by now you should be able to see that I know all of this fighting stuff!'

I flatten myself on the ground and bring a leg around to trip Renate; sure enough, she goes down. She lands on my leg, pinning my knee into a painful position. 'Are you sure you know all of this 'fighting stuff'?' I ask, gritting my teeth against the pain.

Renate darts up, covering every inch of her body with the silver cloak Matt gave her earlier. She turns her head quickly, but not quickly enough for me to miss the shade of red that currently tints her face. She's obviously not comfortable with such close contact with other people.

I suggest we try working on her paranormal skills. Renate turns and smiles confidently, and suddenly the dagger hidden in my left boot – a habit from the days before the fulfillment of the Prophecy – flies out to stick itself to Renate's hip.

My eyes widen immensely and a smile flies across my lips. 'You have the power of animation!' I exclaim, using my own power to return the dagger back to its hiding place. This is perfect! No one knows animation powers better than I do! I am the über-lord of animation!

But Renate's face tells me that I am only half correct. 'Actually,' she begins explaining, 'it only works with metal objects. And I can only make them come to me or leave me; I can't make them move around a room or anything.'

'A human magnet…' I say thoughtfully. 'And what is your other skill?'

Renate looks at her sandaled feet, as if she is embarrassed. 'I don't know.'

I smile gently at her and take a seat on the grass, motioning for her to do the same. 'It's okay, you know,' I begin, waiting for her to sit beside me. Renate looks apprehensive, but finally complies and sits far enough away for a car to pass safely between us. 'It took almost a year for Isabel's second skill to emerge.' I skootch over to get closer to Renate, making the conversation less uncomfortable. 'And it took forever for any of Matt's skills to show himself… but that was mostly just because his skills as an Immortal don't 'emerge' like the rest of our's; they're just there until the user uses them, if that makes any sense.' I leave about a foot of empty space between us, but Renate moves in so that our knees are touching.

I feel Renate's gaze on my face but am determined to look away. I start playing with a blade of grass, twisting it between my fingers. But the color only reminds me of Renate's eyes, and I have to turn to look at her.

I can't breathe when our eyes meet. There are two thoughts running through my head: one is telling me to pull away because I am betraying Rochelle by being this close to someone else. But the other is telling me that the love I felt for Rochelle is not the same as the feelings I am currently experiencing for Renate.

As soon as I acknowledge feelings between me and Renate, I stand and look up – to see Arkarian watching us thoughtfully from the other side of the lake. It's so rare that he comes out of his chambers into our world since his appearance makes it almost impossible for anyone to not recognize him that I have to go over to find out what he's doing here.


	7. Chapter Six: Ethan

**Chapter Six: Ethan**

'Hmm… blue hair, violet eyes; I wonder who _you_ could be?' I ask sarcastically as I come up to Arkarian's level, trying unnecessarily to remind him of the reason he never leaves his chambers to enter our world.

Arkarian smiles at me as if he is hiding a precious secret – and enjoying it, too. I open my mouth to ask him what he's hiding from me, but before I can, Arkarian changes his expression to one of curiosity. 'There has to be a way to send Princess Renate back,' he explains, 'because I don't remember her ever disappearing from history. Her life continued after her first mission, which was a failure. She never did bring the sphere back.' Arkarian suddenly plasters a smile onto his face, and I turn to see Renate coming up behind me.

'I thought I told you to just call me by my name,' she tells Arkarian, frustrated. 'And my first mission was not a failure! I have the sphere!'

Both Arkarian and I pull double-takes. 'You can't have!' I exclaim. 'The sphere was destroyed when Matt and Rochelle and I went to Atlantis to prevent Lathenia from getting at it!'

Renate smiles at me and I have to look away to keep my face from heating up. 'You went to prevent Lathenia from getting at it, and you succeeded. I went to retrieve the sphere, and I succeeded. See?' I look back up to see Renate pull the sphere out of her drying priestess's robes. Neither Arkarian nor I are able to take our eyes away from the crystal structure.

'Oh _hell!_' Arkarian and I turn to see Dillon coming up as well. How did everyone find us? 'I thought you guys had destroyed that thing! How did she get her hands on it?' Despite his accusatory tone, Dillon smiles at Renate in a way that he has only ever used on one other girl: Neriah.

I guess Renate catches on to the way Dillon is smiling at her, because she drops her gaze to the floor and takes a step back, returning the sphere to its hiding place. A bubble of some emotion or other forms in my chest and I have to look away before I hit Dillon. Arkarian rubs his temples and mutters something about Dillon needing to learn to control his thoughts.

Dillon either doesn't realize how everyone is acting or is ignoring us, because he steps closer to Renate and says in a silky tone, 'But that's okay, I guess, because it means that the Guard will have control over the portals to the past and the future.' Dillon holds out his hands for the sphere. 'We are all in your debt.'

Renate looks up, bewildered. 'The future? The Guard will have control over the _future_? But we only go back in time, not forward!'

'Well how do you think you came to be in the twenty-first century?' Arkarian asks Renate, amused. 'You traveled forward in time.' Then Arkarian hits himself on the head with a fist and exclaims, 'Of course! Renate is still on her first mission, which means that her real body is still asleep in its bed! And because time works differently when you're in the past, mere minutes are passing in her time while days are passing here! That's why your life continues despite your current absence!'

'Arkarian!' Isabel comes running up to meet Arkarian, who picks her up and swings her around in celebration of his triumph. How does everyone know where I was training Renate!

After putting a bewildered Isabel down, Arkarian asks what it is that she came to tell him. 'A portal has opened!' she exclaims.

All trace of jubilation leaves Arkarian's face. Now he looks shocked. 'How?' he asks. 'Only Lathenia ever had control over the portals, and she has been dead these past six years! No portals have opened since her death!'

'For what time period was the portal opened?' Dillon asks, showing a rare streak of cool wisdom.

Isabel looks swiftly over her shoulder, as if she is half expecting someone else to show up. I wouldn't be surprised, the way everyone is randomly popping up in this area! But Isabel turns back, satisfied that no one else is coming. '1970,' she tells us.

Wow. The way she was acting, I had thought Isabel was going to tell us that the portal had opened for some important date that, should our mission fail, cause another sequence that could lead to the end of life as we know it. But _1970_? The end of the American hippie era? Is whoever is tampering with Lathenia's portal trying to bring back the good old days of bell-bottoms and smilie t-shirts?

Arkarian looks the most confused out of all of us. Being over 600 years old, he should be able to recall any major historical even at the drop of a hat. But even he seems at a loss. 'What would Lathenia – or anyone, actually, since Lathenia is dead – want in 1970?'

Neriah appears in the middle of our little circle of secrecy, using the wings she earned a few years ago. 'Whoever's messing with Lathenia's sphere is after my mother!' she cries. Matt appears next to Neriah and tries to hold her, but she won't let him touch her right now. 'The portal is open to the date my parents met!'


	8. Chapter Seven: Ethan

**Chapter Seven: Ethan**

Arkarian sends me to 1970. He sends Renate too, for observation. And, too Matt's extreme disapproval, Arkarian sends Neriah. It's a smart thing to do, since only Neriah knows how her parents met, but Matt doesn't want her to go because members of the Tribunal are not supposed to go on missions. It's an excuse for him to feel protective without seeming protective.

I jump first, landing in the New York City of the 1970's. Neriah lands next to me after only a second, but it takes Renate a minute before she finds herself able to make the jump. She goes sprawling into a busy intersection and I have to jump in and carry her out of the road before a car hits her, the driver cursing at us the whole time. Renate grimaces as I set her on the ground and Neriah uses the basic healing skills that come along with her other immortal powers to heal Renate's sprained ankle, trying to keep what she is doing from being completely obvious to the pedestrians pushing to cross the street before everyone else.

While Neriah heals Renate, I take a look around: we are standing in front of two identical buildings, except one of them has a long antenna coming out of the top. According to history, these are the American World Trade Center, also known as the Twin Towers. In 2001 they will be brought down by a terrorist attack and the tragedy will be broadcast all over the news for months, even in Angel Springs, Australia.

Neriah looks up, having finished healing Renate, and gasps. Renate stands and turns to look at whatever has Neriah mesmerized, and I step out of the way of a group of tourists before turning to look as well.

It takes me a moment to recognize the man with wavy, blonde hair coming toward us from across the street. Every other time I've seen him, half his face has been missing, or his body has been nearly covered in fur, or he's just been in one of my many adolescent nightmares. But here's Marduke, a whole person with no scars or disabilities at all. The only word that I can think of to describe him at this point in his life is _beautiful_. How can a man so gorgeous become so evil?

I come to my senses and pull Neriah and Renate into an alley between a bagel shop and a daycare before Marduke fully crosses the street; this mission is unlike any other in that we can't allow the people we are protecting to see us because they will know us in the future. In fact, Marduke and my father should already be best friends and partners in the Guard.

I can't believe I am protecting the man who will later betray my father, murder my sister and 'girlfriend' (Neriah's right; there is no way I can tell if Rochelle and I were 'just friends' or officially 'boyfriend-and-girlfriend'), try to kill me, kill Isabel (even though Arkarian and I brought her back), and cause countless deaths and losses to the Guard.

Marduke crosses the street and turns left, walking past us on the sidewalk. I make Neriah wait fifteen seconds before I allow her, with me and Renate beside her to keep her from doing anything stupid, to follow her father. While we walk, I murmur to Neriah, 'How did your parents meet?'

A small smile forms on Neriah's lips. She is completely devoted to her family, no matter how evil or ugly. 'My father met my mother on a blind date,' she begins, a hopelessly romantic look on her face. 'A mutual friend set them up, sending them on a trip to New York City. But on the actual day that they met, they went ballroom dancing and to an Italian restaurant for dinner. My father gave my mother their first kiss together at the restaurant.' I grab onto Neriah's arm when she starts to speed up, wanting to watch this romantic scene for herself.

We follow Marduke for about five blocks before he turns and enters a jazz club. I give an amused look at Neriah before commenting, ''Ballroom dancing'?' We follow Marduke into the club.

I have this to say for Marduke: he knew how to boogey. Marduke introduces himself to a beautiful woman – Neriah's mother – and begins dancing with her, zigzagging through the whole club.

I watch for a few seconds before I remember that we need to blend in, and no one in the club is sitting down or watching everyone else; they're all on their feet and dancing to the music. As soon as the thoughts run through my head, a young man, probably twenty or something, comes and asks Neriah to dance with him. Actually, he just kind of pulled on her arm and shouted, 'C'mon!' at her, leaving me with a terrified Renate.

'Barb,' I shout, using Renate's alias for this trip into the past (it must be very confusing, going into the past and then going into the future and then being sent into the past). 'Let's dance!'

Unfortunately, because Neriah had informed Arkarian that her parents went ballroom dancing, my disguise was that of a teacher of ballroom dancing. I know nothing about jazz. Neriah doesn't seem to be having any luck with it either, but her partner looks like he is having the best time teaching her; if Matt were here, though, he would blast the guy with a surge of his immortal powers.

I watch the other people in the room and try to imitate their movements, but Renate is not doing a very good job. She is tripping and slipping everywhere, sometimes bumping into other people. I take her hand and start doing some of the more complicated moves that require one person to guide their partner into another motion, and we start to look more like people who actually know what they're doing.

We spend over an hour and a half dancing like this, sometimes laughing at each other's clumsiness, before Neriah's parents finally turn to leave the club.

I grab Neriah, acting like a jealous boyfriend so her dancing partner won't follow us, and Renate so we can follow the happy couple. A few blocks later, Neriah stops me with a gasp and points, distressed, at the dwelling her parents are entering: JOE'S BEVERAGE BAR is illuminated in bright blue, neon letters. I guess Neriah's romantic idea of the night her parents met have been pretty much shoved down the toilet, flushed down with a couple of bits of toilet paper.

Nevertheless, we follow Marduke and his date into the bar to find them making out in a booth, a waitress setting beers down on the table as if this happens every day. Yeah, Neriah's romantic dreams are _gone_.

I steer a disgusted Renate and a shocked Neriah in the direction of the bar and begin telling the bartender to bring us three beers, but Neriah interrupts me and tells her to just bring us a bottle of brandy. The woman brings the bottle, along with three glasses and leaves us to share. Neriah pours drinks into the three cups and gives one to each me and Renate before drinking all of her's, taking a quick glance at her parents before tilting her head back. Renate eyeballs her drink, as if she doesn't quite trust it; I can only watch Neriah and hide the rest of the brandy from her.

I run my finger around the rim of my glass, feigning innocence when Neriah asks where the brandy went. When she asks the bartender to bring us another bottle, I give my head a quick shake. The bartender gives us a bottle of water and tells Neriah she's had enough.

I glance back at Neriah's parents, who are ignoring their drinks. If they're not careful, it would be very easy for someone to poison them… like Rochelle used to do. Poison used to be Rochelle's specialty. She even tried to poison Isabel once, but she swore that it was only enough to make Isabel sick.

Remembering Rochelle, I turn back to Renate and catch her looking at me. She turns away and blushes, and I give a small smile, glad for Lord Penbarin's gift of sanity at my Initiation. After Rochelle had died, I had lost all of my own sanity; if it were not for the sanity given to me by Lord Penbarin, I would have completely lost all touch with reality.

Neriah is being too obvious about her parents; she's looking at them with open disappointment. When they get up to leave, without having taken even a sip of their drinks, I allow her to follow them immediately, grabbing Renate before Neriah exits without us.

When we get back onto the street the sun has set, but it isn't dark; the streetlights and lights illuminating shop names and car headlights provides enough light for a blind man to see by. There was enough light to see the window of the black Mercedes roll down, a pistol aimed at Neriah's parents.

Neriah moves instantly to jump in front of her parents, but I can't take the chance that whoever is in that car is immortal; Matt would kill me and resurrect me just to kill me again if I let anything happen to Neriah, and it would be very obvious if a girl who would someday look exactly like the daughter of these two people got shot at point-blank range and didn't die.

Three shots are fired; I am able to force the first one into the pavement with my animation skill, but am not fast enough to prevent the second and third from continuing towards what should be the future parents of Neriah. I am powerless, and yet Renate is not; she attracts the bullets to herself, the metal piercing straight through her left thigh.


	9. Chapter Eight: Ethan

**Chapter Eight: Ethan**

Neriah and I somehow manage to get Renate out of earshot of Neriah's parents – both of them will know Arkarian in the future, and we know Marduke already knows Arkarian – before we call Arkarian's name – scaring a few bystanders to death with our disappearances.

When we reappear in Arkarian's chambers, he looks sternly at me (why me? Why is it always _me_?) and says firmly, '_What happened!_'

'You know,' I say exasperatedly. 'You say this every time someone dies in the past. For once, can you just _look_ at the person and figure it out for yourself?'

Isabel, standing at Arkarian's side, bends over Renate's leg and lays a hand over the two holes there; although she is able to heal people over distances, Isabel says she finds it easier to touch the person if she is able to.

'Can you save her?' I ask impatiently. 'Can you heal her!' This is more unbearable than Rochelle's death had been! You'd figure after six years, a man would be able to handle death!

Isabel looks at me sadly, tears in her eyes. 'Two bullets went through her thigh, Ethan,' she says, softly yet still reproachfully. 'Do you have any idea how many important veins go through the thighs? And they didn't just go into her thigh; they went _through_ her thigh.' Isabel wipes the tears off her face. 'I'm sorry! This is the second time I've failed you!'

I look down at Renate's body, and then at Arkarian. 'But you said her life continues! You said that she goes back to her time! You _lied_ to me!'

'I didn't lie to you, Ethan,' Arkarian says, softly. 'I trained Renate; I was there for her whole life. She wakes up the morning after her first mission. She even gets married and becomes the Queen of France. According to history, Renate lives.'

'We can go to the middle realms and get her soul back!' Dillon makes his entrance, moving to stand behind me and to the left a bit, so I can see him if I turn my head. 'You and Arkarian did that for Isabel, didn't you Ethan? And this is out of her time period.'

Before Isabel can say anything, Arkarian nods and adds, 'Dartemis had the bridge rebuilt in the middle realms, so there is a threat about her crossing the bridge before you get there. However, she does not have the affinity with light that Isabel has, so you won't have to hurry as much.' Arkarian looks at Dillon and me, but his eyes hover on me for a few moments longer than they did Dillon. 'Who will go?'

'_Me!_' Dillon and I cry at the same time. Arkarian agrees to drop us both in the middle realms, giving us the warnings about how our worst fears will become realities in this middle realm, and advising us to keep our thoughts pure, if not blank.

Dillon gets mad when I give him a stern glance at this last warning from Arkarian.

We're dropped into the grey world, the mist swirling thickly around our ankles. As soon as our feet touch ground, though, Dillon and I take off running. It becomes a race to get to Renate first, but in the end, we both win, seeing Renate strolling lightly through the mist at the exact same time.

Dillon and I stop. '_Renate!_' We scream simultaneously. Renate pauses, but then continues. A feeling of emptiness fills me, but then I remember: Renate is not Renate's real name.

'Marie!' I call out, causing Dillon to look quickly in my direction.

'What are you doing?' he asks, depressed.

'Her name isn't Renate! It's a nickname!'

'So why should Marie be her name?'

'Because she's French, and Marie is a French name!' But Marie doesn't even cause Renate to turn around. I urge Dillon to try it, since we both called 'Renate' at the same time and got her to at least pause. That's got to mean one of us is her soul-mate, right! But Dillon's voice doesn't work, either.

We keep trying. We try Gabrielle, Renee, Joan, Jean, Annabelle, Belle, Emily, and many others. None of them, called by either me or Dillon, causes Renate to so much as hesitate.

I get frustrated, seeing the white bridge that will cause Renate's mortal body to die in its bed in thirteenth-century France coming up in the distance, and cry, 'What kind of freak name does she have: Mariposa?'

Suddenly, Renate stops. Dillon stops too and looks at me as if to say, 'That actually _worked!_'

'Um,' I continue. 'Um, Mariposa, come back! Come back with me!' Right away, Renate turns back and begins to walk towards me. Ignoring the fact that Renate's name is Spanish instead of French, I take her hand in mine and call Arkarian.


	10. Chapter Nine: Renate

**Chapter Nine: Renate**

I open my eyes and have to gasp for air; there doesn't seem to be any air in my lungs! I look up to find Ethan standing over me looking relieved, Isabel and Arkarian watching from a little farther back, and Dillon muttering to himself: 'Why does this always happen to _me?_ Why do I always fall in love with _other people's_ soul-mates?'

Suddenly I remember everything: going to save Neriah's parents to make sure they meet; following Ethan's lead in the jazz club; that horrible drink Neriah had in the bar; the bullets tearing into my leg. I shoot up, knocking heads with Ethan. But I have to know – I have to make sure – I feel my left thigh and sigh when I don't feel any bullet holes. But it had felt so real!

'How am I alive?' I ask facetiously.

And yet Arkarian answers for me. 'You died, but Ethan and Dillon insisted on rescuing your soul before it crossed the white bridge. I'll explain the whole thing to you later, but your soul-mate, Ethan, called you back before your soul could cross over the bridge and cause your body back home to die.'

I look up at Ethan, who is flushing a deep shade of red and nursing the spot where our heads knocked into each other. Now that he knows I'm okay, he's backed off a few paces.

'My soul-mate?' I ask, making sure I head Arkarian correctly. 'He can't be my soul-mate! We're from two completely different time periods!'

'That's exactly what I've been thinking!' Ethan exclaims. 'That, and why the hell is your name Spanish?'

'My name's Renate.'

'No, your real name: Mariposa.'

'Because my mother was a princess of Spain before she married my father.' I nearly smack Ethan for being such an idiot. Royalty marries to form alliances with other countries, not for love! It's another reason why, despite Ethan's supposedly being my soul-mate, he and I could never end up living happily-ever-after.

But then I look into Ethan's eyes, and I forget that. I can almost imagine our wedding. My heart fills with emotion and I want to reach out and caress Ethan's cheek… I feel like flying.

My body suddenly leaves the cot I am lying on. This nabs my attention away from Ethan's eyes and our unlikely future, as well as everyone else's attention. I screech and hug my legs, remembering that I am still wearing only priestess's robes. Everyone is stunned, except Arkarian.

Arkarian is laughing at me. Arkarian, who less than a day ago I had to command to use my name instead of my title, is laughing at the Princess of France.

'What is going on!' I scream, still trying to cover my legs.

'I believe,' Arkarian begins explaining, trying to stop laughing. 'I believe your second skill is emerging!' Arkarian dissolves into fits of laughter. Seeing my face, Isabel takes my side and kicks Arkarian in the shin, turning his smiling face into an expression of pain.

'You could have broken my leg like that, you know,' Arkarian tells Isabel reproachfully.

'Then I would have healed you and broken it again,' Isabel replies curtly. 'I'm starting to miss the days when you were just my Trainer's Trainer.'

Arkarian smiles. 'Touché.'

'I thought so.'

'_Hello!_' I screech at the happy couple. 'What is going on with _me?_'

Arkarian turns his attention back to me with a shake of his head at Isabel. 'You're levitating.'

'You mean I'm flying?'

'No, that would mean you are able to pitch, yaw, roll, and go from left to right and up to down.' I don't understand a word of what Arkarian said after 'no'. 'What you are doing is levitating, which means that you can only go up or down.'

Great. Another useless skill for Princess Renate. First I am a human magnet, and look where that gets me: dead. And now I _levitate_? Well, I guess it could be okay for dodging members of the Order or rescuing a cat from up a tree, but what else? Ethan's animation skills are amazing, I wouldn't mind having those… And Isabel's healing is really useful! Matt and Neriah can do pretty much everything because they're Immortals. And what do I get? _Levitation and magnetism_. I am so lucky.

'So how do I get down from here?' I ask, looking down at the cot that is now ten feet below me.

'Just think about it… but do it slowly!' Arkarian adds this last little bit as I go plummeting down into the cot, my robes flying up above my waist. But as soon as I hit the cot I scramble to pull the sheets up to cover all of me.

'Are you okay?' Ethan calls out from beyond the protection of the sheets, laughing. I put my robes back into place and pull the sheets down, stepping out of the cot.

'Yes,' I reply coldly. 'I'm fine. I've just found out that my soul-mate is never going to fulfill that role, and that my second skill is a bust just like my first one. I'm just fine!'

I withdraw the sphere from my robes and place it gently on the cot before taking off, leaving Arkarian's chambers.


	11. Chapter Ten: Ethan

**Chapter Ten: Ethan**

Considering what happened the last time I ever ran to comfort a hysterical woman, this time I let Isabel handle it. Besides, I'm sure this is one of those things that Renate needs to talk to a fellow woman about. I probably wouldn't be too much help if she needs to talk about the soul-mate situation…

And then there were three…

Dillon stops mumbling to himself long enough to glare accusingly at me, as if this whole thing is somehow all my fault. He scoffs for some reason, and I'm suddenly reminded of when we were teenagers and Dillon had a huge crush on Neriah. I smile at the memory, but of course Dillon takes this the wrong way and marches off, determined to make himself the victim in all of this.

And then there were two…

Arkarian looks at me with a curious expression on his face, as if he is evaluating me. At least now I know how Isabel felt that one day in our history class, after I had found out that she was going to be my first Apprentice; I had wanted to see how physically fit she was, so I would know how much work we would have to do to hone her fighting skills. But the way Arkarian is looking at me now… it's different, or it feels different.

Suddenly I wish there were still five.

'So…' I am determined to break this silence! Normally there is never an awkward moment between me and Arkarian, but I don't like the way he's looking at me. 'How's the research going?' I send him a mental image of Renate so he knows what research I'm talking about.

'Actually, I've uncovered something interesting about Renate.' Now I _really_ don't like how Arkarian is looking at me.

I forget to shield my uncomfortable thoughts, probably the first time I've done this in six years. Arkarian absorbs my thoughts and smiles at me reassuringly, and the tension is gone. 'What do you think about Renate?' he asks casually.

I think for a moment before answering. 'She's a lot stronger than she looks. She just needs to work more on her footwork and—.'

'I'm not talking about what you think of her as her Trainer.' Arkarian is still smiling at me, knowing that I had only been stalling.

Why do we have to talk about our feelings? I like my feelings exactly where they are: inside me. I don't see why I need to air them for my former Trainer to hear! Or maybe I should be grateful that Isabel's gone… or that Matt isn't here. God, I can't imagine how hard he would be laughing at me if he were here.

Right on cue, the leader pure of heart walks into the room, breathing flames. Literally, there are flames coming out of his mouth and nostrils! I know he's only trying to intimidate me, but it's working; _he's exhaling flames!_

'_Brandy!_' he screams at me, and suddenly the flames disappear. But Matt is still using his powers to give himself an aura that forces both me and Arkarian to the floor. I'm surprised Arkarian is forced down, since he is Lorian's son and has probably witnessed many more immortal rages than this one. Although Matt is the son of Dartemis, who is probably twice as powerful as Matt is… maybe Matt's rages are twice as scary as any of Lorian's have ever been? That is a scary thought. I comfort myself with the fact that if Matt ever forces me into protecting myself, it wouldn't matter how many times I stabbed or struck him; he can't die unless I ask another Immortal to do it for me. And let's face it: who, in this or any other world, would want to try to kill Matt?

A hot lick of fire grazes my cheek and I realize that my thoughts have strayed, leaving Matt hanging. I smile, remembering when the worst thing Matt could do to me was give me a black eye and a small cut from the ring on the hand he was punching me with. But this smile only infuriates Matt more.

'What were you thinking?' he screams at me. Although the flames are gone, I think I can still feel the heat of them coming from Matt's body, which is now maybe only five inches away from mine.

I look down at Matt – yes, Matt is smaller than me, but only by about an inch – and say calmly, 'What _was_ I thinking? I don't know. But I'll tell you what I'm thinking _now:_ you owe me some sign of gratitude… a "Thank you for not letting my girlfriend and soul-mate get drunk, Ethan" will do nicely.'

I wait for the flames, but at that instant Isabel reappears, stopping almost the moment she walks in through the door. Renate, who had apparently been following close behind, bumps into her.

Isabel sees the slight burn on my cheek, which I hadn't noticed, and instantly begins yelling at Matt about how he can't go using his power to hurt people like that. 'I almost feel sorry for Neriah!' she yells at him, coming towards me with a hand stretched out to touch my cheek. 'The way you used to protect _me_, I can only imagine how over-protective you are of Neriah!' The pain that had been throbbing slightly since Isabel brought my attention to it suddenly eases, and Isabel brings her hand away.

'He took the brandy away, though.' These words, said in such a tiny voice that Carter probably would have had trouble hearing them if he was still alive (the back-stabbing traitor! I _told_ everyone that I had a bad feeling about him, but noooo, no one listened to the guy with amazing instincts!), come from Renate. Everyone turns to look at her, Isabel's and Matt's expressions softening. 'Almost as soon as Neriah put the bottle back on the table, Ethan took it and hid it somewhere. He wouldn't even let her order another bottle from the bartender.'

'Wait a moment…' My mind starts ticking. 'How did you know Neriah had drunk brandy?'

Suddenly Matt's face flushes and all trace of his suffocating power leaves the room. It's like the years have dropped from him and he's my Apprentice again, complaining that he'll never develop his paranormal skills.

'I smelled alcohol on her breath,' Matt says lamely, and we all know there's something he's hiding.

Isabel suddenly bursts out laughing. 'You tasted it, didn't you?' she coughs out, out of breath from laughing so hard. 'You tasted it when you kissed her!' Matt almost gets away, trying to use his wings to disappear and reappear anywhere else, but Isabel grabs his arm before he can fully dematerialize. 'Oh no, you don't!' she laughs out. 'It's nothing to be ashamed of, see?' Isabel propels Arkarian backwards in an embrace and kisses him.

Matt's jaw clenches and slides right, then left; it's what he does when he's uncomfortable with something. And he's not the only one: Renate has backed against the wall, using a hand to shield her eyes from the offending sight until Arkarian and Isabel break apart.

I personally have no problem with this. They're married, after all. That's more than Matt can say for him and Neriah.

I smile at Arkarian and Isabel, shaking my head at them. That was a purposeful attack on Matt by Isabel; she knows that, even though she and Arkarian are married and will never age past eighteen—living longer than most people would, since they can't die of old age—Matt has always been, and probably will always be, uncomfortable with their relationship. Although I think it's much better now that neither of them is able to live in the mortal world; this way Isabel doesn't have to skip school or work to be with Arkarian.

'So where is Neriah?' I ask, dragging Matt's attention away from his sister's deliberate attack.

Matt turns to look at me, the look in his eyes making me realize that he sees me as the only aly he has right now, and answers: 'I sent her home for the night, and was coming to officially adjourn the meeting and send you home too.'

'And give me a little burn as a parting gift; how nice of you!'

'Renate will be staying with you while she's in our time.'

'_What!_' Renate and I scream at Matt simultaneously.

'I can't stay with him without a chaperone! I'm a pure Christian woman!' Renate continues, while I add at the same time, 'She can't stay with me! There's no room in the apartment!'

Matt addresses my complaint first, even though I think Renate has a more valid argument. 'You have a bed?' Before I can answer, Matt continues. 'You have a couch? You have room. I see no problems.'

'I have one couch, one bed, and _one_ bathroom!' I point out. 'And to get to that bathroom you need to go through the bedroom.'

'So go through the bedroom.' Matt turns to address Renate's complaint. 'Renate, things have changed since whatever time period you came from—.'

'Thirteenth century,' Renate and Arkarian respond simultaneously.

Matt continues as if he had never been interrupted. 'Nowadays, when two people love each other very much—.'

'_Matt!_' This time Isabel interrupts. 'I think we all know that story!'

But Matt keeps going, still pretending no one has interrupted him. 'It is socially acceptable for those two people to share a single home before they get married—.'

'_What!_' If Renate's eyes were any wider I would have to question if she was actually human.

This time Matt snaps. 'Can I _please_ finish a sentence?' He waits as silence gathers in the room. Once he's satisfied that no one is going to interrupt him again, he continues with a slight edge in his voice. 'Since we cannot buy you your own apartment without arousing suspicion, you have to live with one of us. Living in Athens takes some getting used to, so I don't think you would do well living with me and Neriah. I don't want to think of the number of times we would have to arrange a search party for each time you would get lost in the Citadel living with Isabel and Arkarian. You wouldn't want to live with Shaun; having a girl in the house would mean only one thing to Mrs Roberts: it would mean that you are going to be her new daughter-in-law and, believe me, you do not want to disappoint her when we finally send you back to your own time. While I'm sure Dillon would love to have you stay with him, I know from personal experience that you don't want to go near him too often until you're certain he won't make a move on you. And whereas Jimmy wouldn't mind having you living with him and Mum, he is spending nearly every day rebuilding the ancient city of Veridian and setting up new defenses, leaving you with a mother who hasn't seen her children in years and will constantly be jumping at you for information. The only way we can house you without worry is for you to live with Ethan, pretending to be his live-in girlfriend. Do you understand now?'

Renate still looks mortified at the thought of living with me—I'm not that bad, am I?—but nods her head to show that she understands. Arkarian is looking proudly at Matt for considering everything, but I'm busy trying to figure out if it would be better to give Renate the bed and chance embarrassing myself by waking her up on my way to the loo, or to give myself the bed and chance embarrassing Renate by waking up to see me on my way to the loo. Either way, someone could get horribly embarrassed. But the chivalrous thing would be to give her the bed, so that's probably what I will end up doing.

I nod at everyone and almost use my wings to fly home, the same method I used to get to Arkarian's chambers, but I remember that Renate would not have her wings if this is supposed to be her first mission. I stop visualising my ten-mile trek home and guide Renate towards the door, nodding a farewell to everyone else over my shoulder.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Renate

**Chapter Eleven: Renate**

Ethan pulls me out of Arkarian's chambers but needs to turn back, muttering to himself about how Arkarian never explained his strange looks. He leaves me alone outside Arkarian's chambers.

I take this opportunity to take a look around but I am quickly disoriented. Arkarian's chambers are not where they used to be! I should have guessed that I was not still in France, but if I am not in my own country, then where am I? Isabel runs out to give me some of her nightclothes and some spare clothing for tomorrow, but she runs back into Arkarian's chambers before I can ask her.

Whereas Arkarian's chambers in France had been concealed by a tree, forcing whoever required entrance to climb to the very top branch, now they are hidden inside of a mountain! I don't know which is the most strange: having to step into solid rock or having to jump from the tallest branch of a tree in the middle of the forest.

I sit down to sort out my thoughts, but Ethan comes back not five minutes later. He looks slightly troubled, but he gives me an unsteady smile. I think this smile is more for my comfort than to show that he is at peace with whatever Arkarian told him.

Ethan and I begin our long walk to his apartment. While we walk, I ask him all sorts of questions: what type of castle his apartments are in, how did 'cars' come to replace carriages and where the horses pulled from, how the lights along the paved streets illuminate without the use of fire. Ethan tries to answer all of my questions as best as he can, but sometimes he can only answer with, 'I'm no engineer or electrician, Renate.' This leads to more questions about electricians and engineers.

My feet start to hurt from all of the walking but Ethan looks fine; he must walk distances much longer than this on an almost daily basis. About an hour after our journey began, I find myself looking up at a large group of brick buildings. Ethan leads me to a building with a plaque naming it as 'BUILDING 8' and we climb a flight of stairs, only to descend another as soon as we reach the next level. At the bottom of these stairs, Ethan takes me down two corridors before stopping at a door with its own plaque: '807'.

Using a silver key, Ethan unlocks the door and holds it open for me. I enter the small dwelling, taking in the bare white walls, plaid couch, and wooden table that make up this room.

He shows me the bedroom, another square space with white walls. The 'bed' is a mattress on the floor; obviously Ethan doesn't spend much time at home. Ethan points to another door in the room, explaining that this is the bathroom. I nod as if I understand what a bathroom is, but I really need to know where the privy is!

When I ask him, Ethan looks at me, and points to the door again. I walk in, but there are no chamber pots or even boxes with holes in them! 'What sort of privy is this?' I ask, looking at the white porcelain objects that occupy this room.

'This is a normal bathroom.' Ethan walks in behind me. 'That's a toilet. We use that instead of chamber pots nowadays. Do your business and wipe yourself with that roll of paper over there. This little lever flushes the toilet, making the waste disappear.'

I want to try this little magical toilet and shove Ethan out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. When I'm finished, I pull the lever and watch everything disappear. I fling the door open and rush out. 'Ethan! It disappeared! Where did it go?'

Ethan doesn't go into much detail when he answers my question, but I can definitely see laughter in his eyes. What's so funny?

As soon as Ethan finishes explaining, he says that he should 'shower' tonight so that he won't have to do it tomorrow morning and wake me. I ask why he would wake me, and it's then that he tells me that I am to sleep in his bed.

'No!' I immediately decline. 'I can't sleep in a man's bed! I'm already living with a man; don't make me take your bed!'

Ethan sees my wide eyes and frantic expression and smiles comfortingly. 'I won't be in the bed. I'll sleep on the couch. You take the bed; it's much more comfortable.'

'I don't care! I am not sleeping in a man's bed!'

'I'm not trying to embarrass you or anything. If anything, I'm trying to be your chivalrous knight. And I promise I washed the sheets just yesterday.'

'No!' I will not give up on this! Matt gave me some very good reasons why it is necessary for me to stay with Ethan, but I can't think of a single good excuse for my having to sleep in Ethan's bed! It's not that I think he'll try to take advantage of me or anything; from what I've seen of him so far, it doesn't seem like Ethan really cares about that sort of thing. It's just… I would be sleeping in a _man's_ _bed_. It doesn't get much more inappropriate than that.

'Renate.' I can tell Ethan is exasperated now. I look into his eyes and everything freezes. I want the moment to go on, but almost as soon as it starts, Ethan ends it by pulling his eyes away. 'Please, sleep in the bed. Matt gave me the responsibility of making sure you are as comfortable as possible while you are in our time. I don't like to let people down. If you sleep on the couch you won't get a very good night's sleep and not only will I feel guilty, but Matt will burn my cheek again if he finds out.'

Grumbling, I assent. It makes me feel bad when I make other people feel bad, and I don't want Ethan blaming himself for having a comfortable night in his own bed while I toss and turn on what looks like a very lumpy couch. And, from what I've seen, Matt burning Ethan's cheek again could cause Isabel to jump at Matt again, possibly getting her into trouble with him. But maybe not; Isabel and Matt seem to have a bond that none of the others have with each other. I ask Ethan about it before he goes to take his 'shower'. Ethan smiles and tells me that they are half-brother and half-sister before disappearing through the door to the bathroom.

I want to change into the nightclothes that Isabel lent me, but I don't want Ethan walking in on me while I do this. So I climb under the heavy blanket and shimmy out of my priestess's robes and pull on the nightclothes. I'm stunned when I realize it's not a nightgown, like I'm used to; it's a flannel top and bottom, sky blue with sea green horizontal stripes.

I sit up in the bed just as Ethan opens the door to the bathroom, wearing flannel nightclothes like mine, only his look made for a man and the color is a solid red. His eyes linger on me for a long moment, but then he looks away and goes into the room with the couch, muttering a good-night on his way out.

I try to forget that I am in a man's bed and lean back against the pillow. The sheets and pillowcase are not as fine as the ones at home, but they are comfortable. As soon as I close my eyes, I fall asleep.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Ethan

**Chapter Twelve: Ethan**

I can't sleep. Arkarian's words to me about Renate keep me awake, staring at the ceiling and extremely conscious of the fact that Renate is lying in my bed. It wouldn't have bothered me if Arkarian had kept his discovery a secret until morning!

'I found a family tree for the royal family of France; Renate's family,' Arkarian had said, speaking quickly so I wouldn't be leaving Renate alone for too long. 'Renate and her husband have a child, a daughter, whom they name Rochelle. Nature took its course with Rochelle, and in time she produced her own daughter, naming her Rochelle as well. Naming the first-born daughter Rochelle became a tradition, continuing even though after a while the line of Rochelle's separated from the line of heirs. In other words: even though Renate's descendents were technically of royal blood, not all of them became Queen of France. And, according to Renate's family tree, the last descendent of her line was Renate's great-granddaughter—with many more "great's" thrown in there—was named Rochelle Thallimar.'

Remembering this, I cover my face with my hands. And the horrible thing is: that's not even the half of it. Arkarian even had an explanation for why my feelings for Rochelle are so different from my feelings for Renate. And it makes sense: with Rochelle, there was never an actual spiritual or emotional attraction, but there had always been a connection between us. With Renate, the whole thing is bigger than just a connection. I don't know how I can explain it, but it is more than a connection.

Arkarian explained the difference in my affections by revealing to me the identity of Renate's husband: me. Renate and I are, according to history, the ones who will start the long line of Rochelle's. This means that Rochelle was my great-granddaughter, suggesting that my connection with her was because we are family.

I hope Arkarian told this to Isabel; she was always trying to get me and Rochelle to form a couple. I would love to see her face if she knew she had been setting me up with my great-granddaughter…

I can't even believe I thought I was in love with my own great-granddaughter…

The only problem with Arkarian's discoveries is that there is no way I could ever go back and live in the past forever. I don't think it has ever been done, and I don't think the Tribunal would ever allow it. So I don't see how I could marry Renate and create a daughter with her!

Unless I get her pregnant while she's here…

But I would never do that! I would never sleep with anyone until we were married!

But maybe we do get married, while she's here in my time… Arkarian never told me if Renate's husband actually existed in the past or if she eloped but the husband was never seen…

But how long is Renate going to be here? Long enough for us both to fall helplessly in love with each other and get married? I've always imagined slow relationships for me, but I guess if I already know she's my soul-mate… I don't know how this whole thing is going to work out. It's just confusing me.

I close my eyes to go to sleep but I realize that I need to go to the bathroom, something I probably should have done right before or after my shower. But who ever said I was smart?

I stand and walk to the bedroom door. I open it slowly and only as far as I think it would take for me to slide my body into the room, knowing that the hinges will squeak if I open the door too far. I quickly go to the bathroom and come out, shutting the bathroom door behind me. Renate has slept through everything, even when I flushed the loud toilet that had her mesmerized earlier. I give a soft smile and walk over to where her face is turned, facing the opposite wall. An uncovered window lets some moonlight fall across her face, illuminating some of the red curls that do not belong to Renate.

I suddenly wish Renate would open her eyes so I could see into her soul and see her real form, the one with straight black hair and brilliant green eyes. But as soon as I think of her eyes I think of Rochelle. Suddenly a new pang of guilt hits me: I let Renate's and my granddaughter die trying to protect me!

Then I realize how ridiculous this all is: here I am, a young guy who's never been married, worrying about a great-granddaughter who died six years ago. It makes me feel a little better.

I know that, no matter how this unusual bit of history is to come to pass, I will live through it. Compared to the rest of my life, living out what Arkarian has told me will/has come to pass (it's kind of confusing, if you think about it: technically, I have already married Renate and we have already started the now ended line of Rochelle's. And yet as of right now we are not married and have no children, let alone grandchildren or great-grandchildren) seems pretty easy.

This time, when I return to the couch and shut my eyes, I am able to fall asleep instantly.


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Renate

**Chapter Thirteen: Renate**

A loud wailing sound fills my ears, making my eyes fly open and my torso leave the warmth of the mattress. Panting, I turn to see a small timepiece blinking at me, creating this horribly long buzzing sound. I stare at it for a moment—only long enough to determine that it is made out of some sort of metal—before using my skill as a human magnet to repel the horrible object from me, blasting it against the wall. Bits of the device scatter all over the floor and I give a sigh of relief, lying down to go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, this terrible noise has aroused Ethan, who comes in and pokes my back. 'Wake up!' he says, yawning. I crack an eyelid open to see him wiping sleep out of his eyes. 'You're going to have to come to work with me, so I suggest you get up and shower.' I realize that there is no point in even trying to win this battle when I open my eyes fully to see Ethan holding the door to the bathroom open, waiting for me to go in.

'You used that word last night,' I greet him groggily. 'What is a shower?'

Ethan just kind of looks at me for a moment before shrugging and, stretching, says lightly, 'Never mind. Just go in and take a bath then.'

I nod and get up out of the bed, slightly happy at the fact that I actually know what a bath is. The future is too complex, too… different. But surely baths can't have changed at all!

Ethan and I just stand there for an awkward moment or two, Ethan still holding the door open for me. It takes him a moment to realize that I am waiting for something.

'What are you waiting for?' he asks, confused. 'Everything you should need is in there: shampoo, conditioner, soap.'

I look at the open door to the room with the couch, still waiting. 'Where are the bath attendants?' I ask, frustrated. 'I think you need to hire some new ones, because the ones you currently employ are taking an awfully long time.'

I think Ethan is going to laugh at me. His twitching lips give away his amusement. When he finally speaks, it is in a choked voice, as if he is about to burst into laughter at any moment. 'Um, Renate, there are no bath attendants nowadays. Can you bathe yourself?'

'How? I've never bathed myself before!' There have always been at least two attendants to scrub me. 'Besides: I just bathed three days ago!'

Ethan's amused expression is replaced with one of slight disgust, but this is quickly hidden behind another polite smile. 'Just fill the tub up and climb in and then do whatever your attendants would usually do for you.'

'Do you really think I've ever paid attention to that?' Ethan really is dense when it comes to these things. 'Baths are something to be endured in my time, Ethan. The only time I ever pay attention is when it is time to get out.'

Ethan sighs and enters the bathroom, pulling out two bottles and a rectangular prism. Handing the prism to me, he explains: 'This is soap. Once you get into the water, you use it to wash your body. Scrub yourself with it a few times and then rinse until all of the bubbles are gone. This,' Ethan hands me a blue bottle, 'is shampoo. The instructions for this are very easy: lather, rinse, and repeat. You put a small amount of it into your hand and lather it into your hair and then rinse it out. And this,' Ethan puts the other bottle, a yellow one, into the crook of my elbow, since I have no more hands, and continues explaining. 'This is conditioner. It works exactly the same way as shampoo does. Lather, rinse, and repeat. Got it?' Ethan waits for my hesitant nod. 'Then go bathe yourself!'

But I don't move. I stare at him and ask seriously, 'Where do I get the water from, and where is the tub?'

Ethan looks over my shoulder and down towards the ground. 'We have to leave by 7:00… what time is—what happened to my clock?' Ethan looks curiously at me, a faint smile playing on his lips. I don't think this one is a smile of laughter, though; it looks more like a smile of fond remembrance.

'Clock?' I ask, almost certain he's talking about the metal object I smashed. 'You mean that thing that screamed at me earlier?' Ethan looks confused, but then a small look of enlightenment comes over him and he nods slowly. I purse my lips, ready for him to yell at me when I tell him. 'I repelled it from me and smashed it against the wall.'

Ethan surprises me by laughing. Confused, I watch as he tries to pull himself together and explain. 'Don't worry about it. About seven years ago I lost control of my power of animation and blew up a clock.' Ethan, still laughing at this memory, walks into the bathroom and bends over a porcelain object shaped almost like a child's coffin. He turns some silver knobs and plugs up a hole in the bottom of the giant bucket, and water pours into what I now realize is the tub. This is definitely the most enchanted place I have ever been in!

When the tub is full, Ethan turns the silver knobs in the opposite direction he had turned them before and the water stops coming out of the faucet. He gives me an exaggerated bow before stepping out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

I try to make my bath a quick one, but using the soap and shampoo and conditioner turns out to be more difficult than Ethan had explained; the stuff gets in my eyes more than once and I have to stop to blink it out, or the bubbles won't come out of my hair, meaning that there is still more of the shampoo in there somewhere. The whole process is very laborious; I wonder why people ever did away with the employment of bath attendants! It's so much easier!

I step out of the tub and dress quickly into the clothes Isabel lent me. To my mortification, I discover that she has given me a pair of the denim pants she and Neriah were wearing yesterday. And the shirt is barely acceptable, since it shows all of my arms up to my shoulders. I fumble with the numerous buttons running down the front of the light blue shirt, buttoning them all up to my neck. I open the door to the bathroom but immediately shut it when I see Ethan buttoning up his own shirt. His is similar to mine, except his has long sleeves and is white in color. His pants aren't denim like mine are, either; they're black, and made of a finer material.

I know Ethan knows I saw him pulling on his shirt, because he comes and opens the door when he's finished buttoning up. He looks at me, as if he is inspecting me. After a moment, his eyes catch mine and silently seek permission for something, but I don't realize what it is until he starts doing it: Ethan reaches out and unbuttons the top three buttons of my shirt, exposing my neck and the top of my chest. I cover the area with my hands, and I would normally be mad at someone who would do this but I realize that this is not meant to be sexual in any way. Ethan gently pulls down some of the material around the neck, forming a collar.

'I know you might be feeling uncomfortable dressing this way,' Ethan apologizes, 'but I need to take you to work with me, and women these days tend to show a lot more skin than I'm sure you're used to. I wish Isabel had given you more business-like clothes though… I'm not sure how acceptable these clothes will be in a law-firm, even if it is a small one. I guess she doesn't have any business clothes though; she would never really need them, living in the Citadel with Arkarian.' Ethan finishes his inspection of me while I suddenly find myself modest. I stand with my left hand holding my right arm closer to me, and I bite my lip. I look at my bare feet, guessing that I will have to stick with the sandals from my priestess's garb.

Ethan hands me a brush and I run it through my hair before he decides I look well enough for him to present me at his law-firm, whatever that is. While I tie my sandals onto my feet, Ethan takes a length of fine, deep green cloth and wraps it around his neck, tying it in place so that the two ends hang down his chest, the shorter end hidden by the longer.

Ethan takes me to a machine that can transport people at a much faster pace than horses ever could and deposits me into a front seat before sitting next to me, behind a large wheel. As the 'car' moves, I observe that the more Ethan turns this wheel, the farther in that direction the 'car' travels. I look out the window, so fascinated by the swiftly-moving trees and buildings that I eventually let my hand fall away from the exposed skin on my torso. Ethan notices my absorption and pushes a button, and suddenly the glass begins to slide downwards into the door! Now there is nothing between me and those flashes of tree and brick. I cautiously stick a hand out and feel the wind tugging hard on my arm. I pull the hand back immediately, causing Ethan to laugh in amusement. He pushes another button and the glass slides up again.

We reach a cement building with 'KERCHNER AND ASSOCIATES' painted in large letters over the door. Ethan welcomes me to his law-firm.

Ethan leads me through many confusing halls until we reach a locked door with large red letters painted on it: 'ETHAN ROBERTS: DEFENSE.'

'You're in the military? A law-firm is a futuristic military base?' I ask, looking doubtfully at all of the law books lying open on the many tables in the room.

Ethan gives a small laugh at my question but answers me seriously. 'No, I'm a defense attorney. I'm supposed to help people who have been accused of doing something they really didn't.'

'Supposed to?'

Ethan smiles somewhat shamelessly. 'Well, I'm not very good at it. I keep getting morals and laws confused.'

'Why?' I don't see how Ethan could get those two confused! 'Morals and laws are completely different! Morals are how you feel in general, and laws—.'

'I know the difference; I've studied enough laws to know the difference.' Ethan is still smiling as if he feels no regret at all. 'It's just that, if you have been a member of the Guard since you were four years old, defending people no matter what just kind of becomes second-nature.'

'You've been in the Guard since you were _four?_ Why did you get Initiated so early, while I am twenty-five and this is supposed to be my first mission?' Ethan shrugs and sits down into a creaky chair with small wheels on each of its four legs. He picks up a law book and a bright yellow marker and begins marking up a book. Noticing that I am still standing, he offers me a chair, a book, and a marker.

'Just look like you're doing something important,' Ethan explains. 'There probably won't be much work to do; I don't have many clients.' Ethan looks like he suddenly remembered something. 'But if a woman named Darby Kerchner enters, you should just let me talk. She's my boss and the owner of this whole law-firm.'

I bend over the book Ethan passed me and abandon the marker for a black-ink pen and draw with it, delighted that someone finally invented a pen that does not require the user to constantly dip it in ink to write with it. Eventually my scribbles turn into a sketch though. I don't even realize what I've drawn until it's finished: the drawing shows Ethan and me—in my own body, not the one I'm borrowing from the Citadel—sitting on a cliff edge, looking at a full moon. The picture isn't very big, only just large enough to fit inside the small margin at the top of the page, but I quickly tear the page out of the book, hoping to hide it from Ethan.

I don't count on the sound of ripping paper to grab his attention, though; I guess he was only pretending to work, too. He comes over and looks at the ripped page I have crumpled into a ball, holding out a hand as if asking for me to show it to him. I blush and shake my head, telling him no. But Ethan only lunges for it. I quickly shut the hand I am holding the paper in and bring it behind my back, partially delighted and partially horrified that he might actually get a hold of it and see my drawing.

The fight over the paper continues until the sound of a door opening interrupts us and a woman with brown hair and dark brown eyes walks into the room, slowly taking in the scene. She sees me and her eyebrows rise. 'A girlfriend, Roberts? I don't remember you ever bringing one of those into my offices before.' The woman's voice is curt, with an air of authority in it. It reminds me a bit of Matt.

Ethan looks at her and blushes softly. 'Ms Kerchner, this is Renate. Her car broke down last night and she asked me to—.'

'Just make sure you get all of your work done by the end of the day, Ethan.' This time I hear a good deal of Jimmy in Darby Kerchner's voice. A bi-polar boss? I almost feel sorry for Ethan, but the thought of how interesting Ms Kerchner must make as a boss keeps me from actually following through with the emotion. I smile at her and earn a nod before the woman turns to walk out of the room.

The instant the door shuts behind Ms Kerchner, Ethan lunges for the paper again, this time actually managing to grab it from me. He does a little victory dance, whooping and punching the air with both fists, before uncrumpling the paper and looking at the drawing. Ethan looks thoughtfully at the picture and then looks up at me. 'Not a bad idea,' he mumbles, taking me by surprise for the second time today. Then he shakes his head at me and smiles before returning back to the hard task of pretending to work.


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Renate

**Chapter Fourteen: Renate**

I mark up about half of the book Ethan had given me before someone next tries to enter Ethan's office. Ethan gives a frustrated sigh when someone knocks on his office door. Seeing my confused face, he explains in a resigned voice: 'Only clients knock; other people just barge in. I was hoping we could get through today without having any clients…' Ethan shakes his head before putting down his book and sitting up straight in his chair. 'Don't say or do anything while this person is here; just keep marking up that book and looking like you're doing something important.' Then, towards the door, Ethan calls: 'Come in!'

A beautiful woman comes in, crying. Her tears, however, only enhance her beauty. Her silver eyes are glistening with tears and her full, light pink-painted lips are quivering. Her pale hands are holding a tissue to her face. I would feel sorry for her, but her clothes prevent me from feeling anything for this harlot.

She is wearing a tight red dress, the bodice cut low to reveal too much of her chest and the skirt cut too high up her thighs. And all of her arms are displayed as well as her long legs. Her wavy, light blonde hair covers more of her body than her dress does. However, this woman looks slightly younger than I do; maybe twenty-one at most.

Ethan, shocked at the state of his client, stands and runs to help her to a chair in front of his desk. But rather than returning to his seat, he kneels on the floor in front of her and looks up into her face. 'What happened?' he asks gently.

The woman begins to sob harder than ever. 'How could he do this to me?' she whimpers, holding the tissue up to blow her nose. 'I did everything for him! How can he just sue me like this?' Ethan takes the used tissue from the woman and tosses it into a wicker wastebasket in the corner. He reaches behind him and grabs a full box of tissues and, giving it to the woman, asks for her name. The woman continues as if she hadn't heard him. 'He says I could have done more for her! But how could I? I had done everything I could! I even paid for her hospital bills, all for _him!_ And how does he repay me? By suing me because I couldn't afford to pay for a live-in nurse so she can go home!' The woman buries her face in her hands as her body is racked with sobs.

Ethan tries to comfort her. Is this what lawyers do? 'Ma'am, I'm sure your boyfriend—.'

'_Ex-boyfriend!_' the woman shrieks at Ethan. 'And no, he does not have a good reason to sue me like this. Until now we had never fought. And then he suddenly wants me to pay for all of his mother's medical stuff! Medicine, hospitals, doctors, everything! He says that I need to pay for everything because he needs to know how devoted I will be if we get married.' The woman takes off a golden ring with a single diamond and throws it hard across the room. 'We're not getting married now!'

'Obviously.' Ethan takes one of the woman's hands between both of his. This gesture is so… intimate! How can Ethan be kneeling in front of her and holding her hand like he is! It's like this woman has woven a spell over him! 'Unfortunately, I can't do anything for free. If you can't afford a live-in nurse, how can you expect a lawyer?'

The woman cries in despair, muttering about how she knew this would happen, how she knew no one would help her, how she knew she was going to be all alone in this. Ethan sees her despair and grows frantic. I can tell that he really wants to help this woman.

'I'm sorry!' Ethan rubs the woman's arm, trying to comfort her. 'I'll tell you what: I'll take this case for free. You won't have to pay me at all.' Ethan isn't holding the woman's hands anymore; now he is using one hand to rub her arm, while tilting the woman's face up with the other. 'I'll do everything I can to help you. I promise.'

The woman gasps for breath as she looks into Ethan's eyes. 'Thank you,' she breathes, and then suddenly she's kissing him.

I stand, horrified by her action, and it appears that I am not the only one: whereas the beautiful woman's eyes are closed and her expression amorous while she tries to wrap her arms around Ethan to intensify the kiss, Ethan's eyes are wide open in surprise and panic. He pulls away and the woman lets go, but lets herself fall from her chair so that she is now crying into his shirt, her arms still around him. Ethan is still looking at her as if he is trying to figure out what just happened. Her lip paint is now coloring his own lips.

My own emotions are thrown into turmoil. I thought I hadn't felt anything for Ethan, but now I feel like I am being torn apart by what I have just witnessed. How can Ethan sit there and let this woman embrace him, especially after her attempt to kiss him? And why would this woman, in the state that she is in, lunge after the first man who offers to help her? If anything, I would think that this would drive the man away. But Ethan is not an average man; he is Ethan, and driven to help people.

'Ma'am, I would be happy to help you, but maybe you should go home and cry this out first.' Ethan untangles himself from the woman and stands, reaching to take a small piece of paper from his desk. He gives the paper to the woman and says, still a little bit stunned, 'Here's all of my contact information. That second number is the number of my mobile, so you can reach me almost any time when you are ready to go over your case.'

The woman thanks him and stands, holding a hand to her head as if she is about to faint. The woman is a wonderful actress, but she is nowhere near as good as the women who tried to win men in my time. The woman walks out the door, tears still running down her cheeks.

Ethan looks helplessly at me and comes over. I don't notice that I am crying until he reaches out to wipe a tear off of my cheek. He's got a strange expression on his face, as if he can't decide how to feel. His mouth is in a kind of half-smile, but his eyes are still the same as they had been when the woman kissed him.

I look up to meet Ethan's eyes, and this time he doesn't pull away. There's a turmoil of emotions going on inside of me, ranging from shock and confusion—how can someone who is supposed to be my soul-mate let some random woman kiss him like that?—to affection, maybe even love. The moment lasts for what seems like forever, but for all I care it could only be a few moments. My breathing becomes shallower as it continues, away of how close Ethan is to me and how easy it would be to go on tip-toe and kiss him, the way the woman had done. Except that, if I were to kiss him, I don't think Ethan would react in the same way he had with the other woman. At least, I hope he wouldn't.

The moment is broken when Ethan says, in a soft voice, 'It's nice to know you care.' He gives a soft laugh and looks at a clock hanging on the wall. His eyebrows rise for a moment but then go back to their normal height on Ethan's forehead, and Ethan goes to the still open door. 'I'm going to get us some lunch. What do you feel like?' I look at Ethan, remaining silent. 'For lunch, I mean.' I give a shrug and tell him that whatever he brings will be fine. 'I'm just going to go to the vending machines,' he explains. 'So don't expect a feast or anything fine.' Seeing my confused face, Ethan explains what vending machines are. 'That won't take very long, but I'll probably stop and go to the bathroom on my way there.'

I feel my face light up. I smile with anticipation as I ask excitedly, 'Can I come too?'

Darby Kerchner, who happens to be walking past the open door, stops suddenly and shakes her head, muttering to herself. I ask Ethan what she means, and he responds that he has no clue what it means to 'pull a Patterson.'


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Renate

**Chapter Fifteen: Renate**

Ethan and I pass most of the rest of the day marking up more books. Occasionally Ethan will call me over and we will pretend to talk about some made-up case he is 'working on'. Not once does Ethan do anything actually work-related, according to his definition of a lawyer. And, when I asked him, he told me that he usually does not get kissed by his clients.

When the clock reads three o'clock, Ethan's pants start ringing. He goes fishing in his pocket for a sleek, silver object that he flips open and speaks into. The way he's talking to this object, he could be having a normal conversation with a real person! Maybe this is some new method of communication, where someone sends you their side of the conversation and you respond. I have given up trying to decide what future objects actually do and how they work; the 'computer' on Ethan's desk had me confused enough.

When Ethan finishes talking into his device, he turns to look at me. 'That's my cell phone,' he tells me, and explains what it is used for. 'Isabel called to let me know that we need to meet in Arkarian's chambers again, as soon as possible. We need to pick up Dillon before we go.' Ethan grabs his suit jacket off of the back of his chair and comes to exit with me. But before we actually exit the office, Ethan pauses and grabs a handful of books. Walking out into the hallway, he starts talking loudly about all of the work he has to get done tonight and how the next time my car breaks down I should just rent another one.

We get into Ethan's car and drive over to another building, this one made out of red bricks. Ethan parks and we walk into the building, getting visitor's passes from the front office. This place is so much more stringent about security; it must be some vital government office! After obtaining the visitor's passes, Ethan leads me through many different hallways made out of large bricks that are painted an off-white color. We stop at one door, and Ethan knocks briefly before entering.

Dillon stands before a large group of loud teenagers, his fist pounding down on a textbook to emphasize the words he is shouting: 'Shut up, you little buggers! What do I have to do get you lot to pay attention? I am trying to teach you history, possibly one of the most important subjects you will ever be forced to learn!'

'Mr D!' a child shouts before being scolded by Dillon for not using his appropriate name. 'What is so important about history, anyway?'

Dillon's eyes widen and his jaw drops. 'What's so important about history?' he asks, speechless. "What's so important about _history?_ History is everything! Without history, we have nothing! History is how we came to be here, and you had better be grateful to even have a history you unappreciative little—.'

'Dillon!' Ethan calls out, interrupting Dillon's rant. 'You are not responsible for the boy's history, his parents are. You don't even have kids. Besides.' Ethan smiles at Dillon, realizing that he now has the rapt attention of every child in Dillon's history class. 'The last time you took that tone with a student, I had to cover your butt in a court of law.' The class bursts into laughter. Ethan goes to whisper into Dillon's ear why we're here and where we need to go.

'There's still ten minutes left of school, Ethan. You can take a seat and actually learn something while you two wait for me.' Ethan and I do as Dillon tells us, taking the only available seats in the classroom: the ones directly in front of Dillon. We listen as Dillon continues the lesson on an English king from the thirteen hundreds. I sift through my memory, trying to determine whether I actually know this King Richard or not.

'King Richard was overthrown and sent into prison,' Dillon teaches to the now silent class. 'However, he soon disappeared from his prison cell—.'

'Mr D!' another child, this time a girl, calls out. 'The textbook says that King Richard died in his prison cell—.'

'_I don't care what the textbook says!_' Dillon yells at the girl, this time punching the textbook straight through his desk. '_I say that King Richard disappeared and that's what's going to be on the test, so that's what you have to know! And why aren't any of you taking notes on this?_'

Immediately chaos begins to take over the room once again. Kids begin throwing everything, from textbooks to papers; a couple in the back row begins making out; Dillon begins shouting; Ethan begins laughing.

Dillon stops shouting and writes on a small pad of papers in front of him. He stands and walks to the back of the room, handing two slips of paper to the couple making out. 'Detentions. Next Thursday. Before school. Cleaning duty,' Dillon says stiffly. The room immediately silences. I wonder what a detention is and why it has caused the same reverence Matt had caused on Ethan and Arkarian when he discovered Neriah had been drinking brandy.

The class behaves and takes notes for the rest of the class period. When the bell rings, their voices begin shouting about how unfair their teacher is and how he always behaves as if he has various objects shoved up his rear end. I wonder what many of these objects are, but the whole concept sounds painful. The future generations of the world have vulgar minds; I wonder what happened to the no-touching-between-genders policy that governs my time.

Dillon thanks Ethan for stopping him before he said something regretful and we head out of the school, fighting through the thick sea of students trying to get out of the building as well.

We make it all the way to the car, Ethan just about to back out of the parking space, when Dillon suddenly asks, 'You know, the way those kids behave when it comes to history, I wouldn't be surprised if every one of them was a member of the Guard, just bored without anyone to battle against.'


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Ethan

**Chapter Sixteen: Ethan**

It's been a while since I've been called to Arkarian's chambers for something more serious than debating whose life is more pointless now that Lathenia is dead. Arkarian and Isabel are running a close tie for first, against Matt and Neriah; without Lathenia to mess around in the past, there are no missions for Arkarian to monitor, so he and Isabel are stuck in the Citadel only because they can't live in the mortal world due to their agelessness, a power that Matt won't take away because he says that if anything happens that would create a need for Arkarian—who would not function without Isabel (_would_, not _could_)—he would need to be alive and able. And Matt and Neriah are governing a body of people who have almost no point to having their supernatural powers, along with a group of Immortals who are frustrated that the body of people are beginning to use their powers in the mortal world for mischief. These mischief-makers are mostly younger, newer members of the Guard, who don't seem to care that it was a mischief-making goddess who started the war in the first place.

Somehow I sense that this meeting is going to change all of that. Maybe it's my super instincts, my third skill, but I get the feeling that all of those bored teenagers won't be so bored soon.

I park my bright yellow Jeep in the lot at the base of the mountain, the one that families and tourists park in when they want to climb the mountain for a day outside. Renate and Dillon and I make the hike up the mountain, debating about how he should have handled his students.

'You're too hard on them,' I insist, turning back to help Renate climb up a particularly difficult patch of rocks. 'You called them "buggers." Even Mr Carter never went that far. He just shouted at us, and only when he was _really_ frustrated.'

'They deserved it!' Dillon argues fiercely. 'My name is not "Mr D." They need to learn how to respect their elders.'

'Yeah, you're really a whole lot older than them, Dillon. A whole ten years.'

'Eleven! It's a Year 10 class.'

'Still, you're not as much older as you say you are. And since when have you ever respected _your_ elders? I seem to recall that I am a whole two months older than you are…'

'That's not the same thing. You're my best mate; I'm allowed to call you by your first name. And you're talking about two months. That's not that much.'

'Then what about Arkarian?'

Dillon shuts up long enough for us to reach the barrier, but before we enter he adds, determined to have the last word: 'Arkarian may be over six hundred years old, but he doesn't look a day over eighteen. Therefore, I am technically _his_ elder.'

I shake my head at Dillon's flawed logic, wondering yet again how he managed to become a teacher.

Arkarian grants us entrance into his chambers and we walk to the room at the far end of the corridor. Inside, Arkarian, Isabel, Matt, Neriah, Jimmy, and Dad are crowded around a woman with brown hair that matches my own.

'Mum!' I gasp, and everyone suddenly turns and clears a space for my mother to see me better, and vice versa. Mum's got tears running down her cheeks, something I haven't seen since Sera's spirit was finally freed from the underworld six years ago. Her blue eyes widen when she realizes who I am.

'Ethan!' Mum calls out, shocked. 'You're a part of all this too?' Suddenly, her tears become too much for her and she crumples to the floor, murmuring, 'No, no, no!'

Dad bends down to help her while I make my way over. Arkarian produces one of his ancient stools for Mum to sit down on while she calms down. I give Dad a questioning look, but he only shrugs and points at Arkarian, who points back at Mum.

'She came to me like this,' he explains. 'She said she had important information for the Named and demanded that I call a full meeting immediately.'

Looking at my mother, it's hard to imagine her actually demanding anything. Isabel comes up and comments with a slight note of amusement, 'She reacted differently when she discovered who we all were. She said your father made sense, but still can't believe that Jimmy is Named. She didn't have trouble accepting Matt and Neriah as Named, only that Matt is the leader, which is something we've all been guilty of.' Then Isabel grins evilly at me, but I don't get what is so funny; I never expected to come here to find my mother _here_, let alone in tears. But the reason for the glint in Isabel's eyes becomes apparent when she explains that Mum had actually fainted when she saw Isabel, still eighteen years old six years after she supposedly left for medical school in America.

'I can't lose another child!' Mum screams, getting everyone's attention again.

Arkarian touches Mum's arm sympathetically. 'What do you mean, Laura? Ethan's right here, and the way things are going, nothing is ever going to happen to him.'

'You don't understand!' Mum's statement rings true, as proved by the many stunned and attentive faces in the room. Dillon could never hope to achieve such attentiveness in his class. 'The Order is still alive!'

Although a moment ago I hadn't thought it was possible, the room grows more silent. Even Renate, who had been hiding out in a corner near the door, probably feeling left out, is now standing near the group and listening intently.

I shake my head and take Mum's other hand. 'Mum,' I begin slowly. For almost my whole life, my mother has been in an almost invalid state because it turned out that she was being haunted by the restless spirit of my murdered sister Sera; I'm used to dealing with Mum when she's depressed. But Sera's spirit has moved on to its intended destination, so there is no reason why Mum could still be depressed. Dad would have, or should have, called me if there was something wrong. 'The Order is gone. Lorian killed Lathenia six years ago, but I don't even know how you would know about the Order—.'

'I was a soldier!' Mum cries. My eyebrows rise so far my forehead begins to hurt. 'I was a member of the Order! I was weak, and Lathenia offered me power. Power is—.'

'—food for the weak,' the rest of the room finishes for Mum. This speech is almost identical to the one Rochelle gave after she turned over to fulfill her rightful place in the Guard, and the Named.

Mum looks at everyone, hiccupping. Those hiccups mark these tears as different from the ones Mum used to suffer from; Mum only hiccups when she's scared. 'Lathenia is gone, but someone worse has taken over her place. Her child is now leading the Order.'

After a long, long moment of silence, Arkarian says, 'Laura, Lathenia never had a child.' Arkarian, easily the oldest person here, would know if Lathenia had a child. Everyone nods their heads in agreement with Arkarian.

Mum, seeing everyone's disbelieving looks, wails, 'Do you think anyone in the Order ever lived long enough to remember when Lathenia was actually pregnant? No! Lathenia did not value lives like Lorian did; if anyone so much as questioned her, they were killed, or at least tortured! I didn't even know about the child until a few years ago, when it first made itself known to the remaining members of the Order!'

Everyone, including me, is still having trouble believing my mother. And how can we? It's hard to imagine Lathenia, the Goddess of Chaos and the ultimate evil, as a mother. I know when _I_ imagine a mother, I don't imagine an evil, selfish goddess out to get all the power she can, even if it means killing everyone on Earth to get it.

'The goddess can't be a mother.' Renate stuns everyone with her words. 'She would need a husband to have a child, and she has never had a husband.'

'My father, Marduke, and Lathenia were lovers,' Neriah explains. 'And King Richard, the representative of the ancient city of Veridian in the Tribunal, was her lover while he was distracting her and spying on her at the end of the war.' Everyone shudders at this memory. 'But I don't think that King Richard was her lover early enough for the child to be his, so that would mean…' Neriah's eyes grow wider. 'How old is the child?' she asks.

Mum turns to look at Neriah and answers her. 'The child is around twenty-one years old.'

Neriah does the math quickly in her head. 'Four years younger than I am.' Arkarian has to produce another stool for Neriah, who slumps down and almost misses the stool completely. 'Oh my god,' she breathes. 'I have a younger brother or sister!'

'Brother and sister,' Mum adds.

'Two of them!' Neriah exclaims. Any more information about her family and I think she's going to explode; first the disappointment about her parents' first date, and now the realization that she's not an only child.

'No, one child,' Mum assures Neriah. 'But, like Lorian, it switches genders depending on what is more convenient. It has blonde, wavy hair. The hair is long when the child takes the form of a woman, and is down to the ears when it is in male form. The eyes are silver, favoring Lathenia in color. And the skin is pale, also from Lathenia. The hair comes from its father: Marduke.'

This description sparks a memory. 'My client!' I exclaim. 'A twenty-one year old woman with wavy blonde hair and silver eyes and pale skin! Oh _hell!_' I use my illusion skill to create a sink attached to the far wall and run for it, spreading liberal amounts of soap across my lips and rinsing them with water. Everyone silently watches my actions, except for Renate, who is laughing at me maliciously. When I'm satisfied that all possible remnants of Lathenia's demon child are gone from my lips, I turn. Now I see that Arkarian, Matt, and Neriah are all laughing with Renate; she must have shared her thoughts with them, reliving the kiss in her openly aired thoughts. Mum, Dad, Jimmy, Dillon, and Isabel are all standing and looking clueless, but Isabel is the only one trying to get any answers; she pokes Arkarian's chest and demands for him to tell her what he's laughing about. When he doesn't answer her, Isabel pouts and continues poking him all over his torso, her attacks getting harder with each second that Arkarian continues laughing. Arkarian is finally able to breathe without chuckling and shares what everyone else already knows: the child of Lathenia, the Goddess of Chaos, and her demon lover Marduke, the murderer of my sister and great-granddaughter (I am still having a hard time believing that one), kissed me in an attempt to get me to represent her for free.

Then it strikes me as odd that this demon child would need an attorney. I share this thought with Arkarian, who, now completely serious, asks Mum why this child would be kissing me.

'It's trying to create suspicion among you. Right now it is using its ability to change genders to seduce you away from each other and create jealousy. But as soon as it knows that you have figured out what it's up to, it will stop.' Mum has calmed down a little, but she's still hiccupping like crazy. She looks at the sink as the illusion evaporates, shaking her head.

'The soap and water were real,' I assure everyone, earning a small laugh.

'Although,' Isabel begins, waggling her fingers at me, 'if you were really that worried, I could have cleaned the demon cooties out of your bloodstream for you…' She's teasing me, trying to make me feel better. But I already have a plan.

I shrug my shoulders at everyone. 'There's really no problem with this whole thing,' I tell them calmly, wondering why they haven't noticed this in the first place: 'The child thinks that I still don't know about it, so it will come back to my offices eventually. I'll kill it when it comes back. Problem solved.'

Mum looks at me like I'm the crazy one, even though I'm not the one who came into Arkarian's chambers announcing the existence of Lathenia and Marduke's child. 'The child is an Immortal, like its mother.'

'Great!' Dillon exclaims, probably depressed that he can't be the one to kill the child. 'So that means that the only ones who can kill this thing are Matt and Neriah, and _maybe_ King Richard. I don't think King Richard could, because Veridian has waited so long for its rightful king. And we can't spare Matt cuz he practically runs the Tribunal.' Dillon holds up his hands for peace when Matt begins to argue that he does _not_ run the Tribunal because all of the members of the Tribunal work as equals. 'So that leaves Neriah, who, being Neriah, won't want to kill her little brother slash sister thing, even though she's never met the thing.' This time Dillon has to defend himself against Matt and Neriah: Matt is still mad about Dillon's comment about the Tribunal, and Neriah is mad that her sibling is being referred to as a thing.

'We're screwed,' I finish for him.


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Renate

**Chapter Seventeen: Renate**

The stunned silence that has been keeping everyone here held captive is broken, and suddenly the woman who is apparently Ethan's mother is bombarded with questions. The woman, named Laura, is busy trying to keep up with everyone's questions. She tells us that she has been a soldier for the Order since just after Sera's death, but she had never worked for Marduke; she was a soldier under Dillon until he switched sides but only knew him as 'Bastian', and after he switched she took over his position as Lathenia's own right hand. Although the information Laura has about Lathenia would have been valuable while the goddess was still alive, now the information is useless. And Laura says that even she did not know that Lathenia and Marduke had had a child, and she had trouble believing it until she saw the child's eyes for herself; apparently the eyes reveal the child's parentage.

'What is your current position in the Order?' Matt asks suspiciously. Of course he would be, being the leader. Even though, being Ethan's childhood friend, he should know Laura well.

Laura faces Matt and looks into his eyes for a long moment, and I can tell that she's still having trouble digesting the fact that Matt is the leader of the Named, the most powerful and undefeated members of the Guard. After a while, Laura answers him with a slight tremor in her voice. 'My current position in the Order is that of a traitor. I return on pain of death.'

Matt still looks doubtful, but it's obvious that everyone else believes Laura completely. I get everyone's stunned attention when I ask lightly, 'Did you openly speak out against the child? How do they know you are a traitor?' The way everyone keeps reacting to my voice, I think some of them actually forget that I'm in the room. The only people to look as if they remember my presence are Ethan and Arkarian.

Laura looks at me curiously and counts the number of people in the room, muttering to herself the Prophecy. 'There should be seven of you, assuming that the traitor has been identified and banished—if not killed—and that the one victorious in death is… well, dead.' Laura looks thoughtfully at me, but I can see a trace of wariness in her eyes. 'What role do you play here?'

Immediately everyone goes over their parts in the Prophecy, some—like Matt—more enthusiastic than others—Ethan and Dillon—in the way they share their positions. But when it comes to me, I tell her my history and how I came to be here. Laura's eyes flash when I mention the sphere, and I decide that now is a good time to hand it over to Arkarian.

'Obviously it wasn't meant to exist in my time,' I say calmly, holding the awesome machine out for Arkarian to take. 'I think this was all meant to happen, because now you are able to control the portals to the past and the future, and I have met my soul-mate. Everything balances out. As long as Ethan doesn't get himself killed, history should run its course just because I toyed with the sphere in a moment of confusion.' Everyone laughs a little, but Laura looks from the sphere to her son.

'What does my son have to do with all of this?' she asks somewhat accusingly. It's easy to see how protective Laura is of Ethan.

Arkarian, the one who can personally remember a time when Ethan and I will marry, tells Laura about the recent discovery. Laura's eyes widen and settle on me, taking me in.

'I don't really look like this,' I comment, poking at the uncomfortable pants and absurdly revealing shirt with one hand, while I run the other through the red curls of my borrowed hair. 'I normally have straight black hair and pale skin.' I introduce myself to my future mother-in-law formally, as the Princess of France, since I still don't know her well.

There is an uncomfortable silence as Laura continues to take in my appearance, looking deeply into my eyes for a time. Ethan breaks the silence by asking his mother what her skills are.

Laura's eyes thankfully shift to her son. She looks him up and down, and suddenly the dagger that he hides in his right boot glides upwards out of the shoe, and then slowly towards Laura's outstretched hand.

'What is it with everyone showing their powers with the help of my dagger?' Ethan asks sarcastically, slightly stunned that his mother shares his gift of animation. Then Ethan almost kills his mother out of fright when the dagger starts resisting, trying to float back to its rightful owner. Laura manages to keep her powers focused on the dagger, so that the weapon is now hovering right between mother and son. Ethan laughs at this contest. 'Mum, it's _my_ dagger!' he laughs out. 'Don't make me use my full power to get it back!'

'His already incredible powers were enhanced a few years ago,' Matt explains for Laura and me. 'So his animation skill is unmatched by anyone in history… except maybe for himself.' Only Arkarian finds this funny, but it's to be expected; only he has ever known Ethan in a time before this one.

With a jerk of his head, Ethan forces the dagger to go driving into Matt's chest, a direction almost perpendicular to the line formed by Ethan, Laura, and the previously hovering dagger. Matt looks down at the hilt of the dagger sticking sickeningly out of his chest and, using one hand, pulls it out. The only way anyone would be able to tell he had been stabbed at all is a small area of blood around a tear in his shirt, and blood all over the dagger. Matt looks at Ethan with a confused look, asking, 'What was the point of that?'

Ethan shrugs, smiling. 'I had to end the contest somehow, and you're immortal. What else could I have done?'

'Neriah is immortal, too.'

'But you would have killed me for doing that to Neriah. And Neriah does not let me use her as a moving target when I want to practice archery.'

Matt shakes his head, ready to go on with the argument, but Laura suddenly falls, clutching her head in both hands. She shrieks, filling the air with a loud, piercing noise. Everyone covers their ears except for Isabel, who stands with a lucid expression on her face, hands dangling idly by her sides.

Laura's screeches form words: '_No! No! It's inside my head! Get it out!_'

'What's going on?' Ethan yells, expression displaying concern for his mother. 'What's happening to her?'

Isabel, her hands now firmly clasped over her ears like the rest of us, looks worried as well. I wonder what it was that had her held firmly to her position when Laura started screaming, whereas the noise had driven the rest of us to the floor.

The noise suddenly stops, and everyone tentatively removes their hands from their ears, looking at Laura for an explanation.

Laura is crying again. 'The child is smarter than Lathenia ever was,' she cries, still holding her head. 'It communicates using telepathy, and takes information straight out of your brain whether you consent or not. But it only does this to its soldiers, knowing that its power can be felt by whoever it is taking information from or communicating with.' Laura looks apologetically at everyone, but her look stays on Arkarian longer than it does on anyone else. 'It took information from my mind just now. It knows where I am and what I have told you. I'm sorry I betrayed you by coming here!'

Silence prevails for a millisecond before Matt takes command. He uses his powers to put her into a trance, explaining that she can't hear or sense anything while she is in this state. Then he begins talking quickly. 'From now on all meetings will wait until everyone is asleep, and they will be held in the Citadel. That way this "child" won't be able to track us. Laura isn't safe anymore, if the child knows what she's done and can contact her at will.' Matt shuts his eyes for a moment and his brow furrows, as if he is concentrating very hard. After a minute, he opens his eyes and, still speaking quickly, tells us, 'Dartemis is having a room prepared for her in Athens. If we can get Laura there while I have her in this trance, she won't know where she is, and therefore the child won't be able to locate her by forcing the information from her mind. It will also prevent other members of the Order from finding her and communicating her location to the child.'

'What if,' Jimmy says thoughtfully, as if he is working out a living riddle, 'having met the members of the Tribunal while hiding in Athens, the child discovers who she is seeing constantly, and figures out where she is hiding?'

'She'll be kept in a safe room, where anyone coming and going must have the permission of the entire Tribunal. Attendants will be provided so that she is not lonely, but we will not permit anyone or anything that might betray her location into the room. And Shaun, you will stay with her in Athens so your neighbors don't suspect anything. Ethan, if anyone asks you about where your parents have gone, you are to tell them that they have gone on a pleasure cruise.' Matt has a smug look on his face, feeling confident that he has covered everything. 'The only way to get to Athens is if you're sent there via the Citadel, and I'm almost certain that the child doesn't know where we've rebuilt it. Does anyone else have any questions?'

No one speaks. I now see why Matt is the leader of the Named.


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Ethan

**Chapter Eighteen: Ethan**

Matt sends Mum and Dad to Athens, keeping Mum in a trance and making sure Dad knows how important it is that he does not tell her where they are going to be staying. As soon as Matt returns, making sure that Mum and Dad are settled in the city outside of mortal time, he directs everyone to go home quickly; the sharp tone in his voice betrays the worry Matt is feeling, probably because we are now up against an enemy we don't know much about. At least with Lathenia we knew who she was and how she behaved; this is the first we've ever heard of her child, and we don't know anything about it besides how it communicates with its soldiers and its physical appearance and that it is immortal.

I wait for everyone else to leave, using my thoughts to let Matt know that I need to talk to him. He nods at me to let me know he's gotten the message and tilts his head towards Renate, who is waiting for me by the door. I think she's resigned herself to the fact that she's stuck living with me until we can figure out a way to send her back to her own time.

Everyone else leaves, and the only ones left are me, Matt, Renate, and Neriah. I wonder for a second why Neriah is still here, but then I decide that, like Renate, she must be waiting for her living partner. It's also possible that I let my thoughts stray a bit farther than Matt, but I don't think this is so; if Arkarian had picked up that I needed to say something to Matt alone, he would have waited too, instead of going home to the Citadel with Isabel. Maybe Matt told Neriah to wait for him, or thought that Neriah had a right to hear what I have to say; the child is her half-sibling, after all.

'I know you know about what happened today,' I begin, earning a smirk from Matt, a troubled look from Neriah, and a blank face from Renate. I pause a moment, thinking to myself that Renate has been trained to hide her emotions behind a courtier's polite mask when in social situations before continuing, 'What should I do the next time this woman comes into my office? She made it seem like she wanted me to represent her in court. I can't turn her away as long as she slash he slash it continues to take that role in my office.'

'So don't go to the office,' Matt suggests with a shrug, as if this is the most obvious solution. 'You can't represent her if you come down with a sudden case of the flu, can you?'

I shake my head at Matt. 'But then she—he—it—whatever it is—will know that we know about it and what it's up to.'

'Fine, then. Let the woman kiss you, then.' Matt smirks at me again. 'Maybe next time she'll go even farther.'

Renate and Neriah both let out horrified noises, Renate's courtier mask gone. But it's Neriah who looks the most horrified. 'I just realized something,' she mutters, covering her mouth with her hand. Neriah's eyes raise and connect with mine. 'That man that I danced with when we saved my parents on their first date,' she reminds me. 'He had blonde wavy hair, silver eyes, and pale skin.' I think I know what's coming and try to prevent Neriah from continuing so Matt won't go flame-thrower again, but Matt quickly shoves down the hand that I was going to use to cover Neriah's mouth with. 'Oh my god,' Neriah breathes. 'I was attracted to my _brother!' _

Or sister.

Or both.

Or neither.

Depending on what her sibling thing wants to be, I guess.

But Matt doesn't bother to consider this interesting fact. Before he can say or do anything, I shove my thoughts into his head, loudly: _Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah!_

'_Ethan, for god's sake **screen your thoughts**!_' Matt screams at me aloud, holding his head and using his power to intimidate me. This sudden rage reminds me of those Matt's uncle Lorian (it's still odd thinking of Lorian having a brother, son, and nephew) used to come into. But I think Matt is more stunned than angry. 'You were _attracted_ to your _demon sibling?_' he asks Neriah, incredulous.

Neriah pulls herself together and looks at Matt sternly. 'Matt, I've thought many guys were attractive. But that doesn't matter, because _you_ are my soul-mate!'

Matt isn't listening to her; he's still stuck on the 'I've thought many guys were attractive' part. 'I'm your soul-mate!' he yells, repeating exactly what Neriah just said. 'You don't need to be looking at other guys!'

'So should I tear my eyes out to satisfy your ego?'

'That could work!'

Infuriated by Matt's words, Neriah glares at him. Her body slowly goes transparent as she uses her wings to leave. Her departure just makes Matt even angrier, but I think it's more because he's confused.

'How can she be looking at other men?' he asks, starting to pace around the room in a circle. The startlingly brilliant leader from a few minutes ago is _gone._ 'We're soul-mates! She shouldn't still be looking at guys in that way. Am I right?' Matt stops pacing to look at me, expecting an answer something like, 'Yes, Matt; you're absolutely right. It is inappropriate for Neriah to be looking at other men that way,' but all I can do is shrug. I don't think Neriah would ever do anything against Matt romantically, no matter how attractive a guy was. She's too pure to do anything that spiteful or selfish. Matt continues on his tirade for a few more minutes before I offer any advice.

'Why don't you marry her?' I ask. This question has been baffling me for a while. 'If you two are soul-mates—which you are—then why don't you marry her? You obviously seem insecure about your place in her heart right now, so why not put it to the test and propose?' Besides the fact that he should have proposed to Neriah a long time ago.

Matt looks at me, a helpless look in his eyes, and says, 'I can't. Anyone on trial could say that Neriah's decision was affected by mine or vice versa if we get married, and I have to make sure that things seem—no, _are_—absolutely, 100 fair. Even Lorian and Arabella never married, even though it was obvious that they loved each other deeply.' Matt sighs and continues pacing.

I shake my head at him fiercely. 'To hell with fairness! Go and marry your soul-mate!' Matt stops pacing and gives me a stern look, one eyebrow raised. I correct my statement. 'Okay, maybe it would be a good thing to be fair. But the need for justice doesn't mean that you and Neriah can't be happy together as man and wife.' I give Matt a small smile, and he begins pacing again. 'If you were so worried about fairness, you would have pulled a Lorian and gone genderless.' I laugh as Matt shudders at this thought.

'I think I'll stay male, thanks.' Matt stops pacing and looks at me seriously, as if a revelation is taking place inside his head. 'Maybe I should do it.' Seeing my shocked face, Matt adds quickly, 'Propose to Neriah, I mean!' Then a smile slowly begins to form on his face, lighting up his brown eyes. 'Yeah!' Matt grabs my shoulders and for a second I think he's going to hug me. I tense up, ready to offer support but still keep my pride by pushing Matt away, but all Matt does is exclaim, 'I'm going to ask Neriah to marry me!'

'_Finally!_' Suddenly Isabel appears through the door and jumps on Matt, hugging him fiercely.

'_Isabel!_' Arkarian follows Isabel into the room, eyes wide in an emotion somewhere between embarrassment, surprise, and joy. He goes to try to pull Isabel off Matt, saying in an annoyed tone, 'I only let you eavesdrop because you promised you wouldn't interfere!'

But Isabel isn't listening; she's too busy engulfing her brother in a tight hug. But then she suddenly jumps off of him and punches him hard on the arm. 'What took you so long?' she asks angrily as Matt gently rubs his arm, his face an expression of both pain and ecstasy. But then Isabel is smiling and hugging him again. The next time she pulls away, it's to urge Arkarian to summon Neriah from the Citadel so Matt can propose now.

Matt quickly shakes his head, saying that we've already stayed in Arkarian's compromised chambers for too long. 'Besides,' he adds, letting his happiness flood his voice, 'I want to do this right.'

I clap Matt on the shoulder in congratulations and look over at Renate. Her eyes are shifting somewhat sadly from Matt to me to herself, and I know what she's thinking: history says we are going to get married—or have been married in the past—but the present situation tells us that there is no way that the bond Matt and Neriah will soon be creating for each other could ever exist between me and Renate.

All of a sudden it's as if I don't have control over my own body; my feet start taking me closer to Renate, my hand reaching gently for her cheek. I realize that the commotion has subdued with my sudden motion away from Matt, but this realization is unimportant right now. I find myself standing in front of Renate, my head lowering itself to her's. A second later I realize that I am kissing her, and that she's not pulling away. And then I make a third discovery: Renate is levitating, and this time she's taken me up with her. Everything and everyone else seems to melt away into nonexistence, until my lower legs are wrapped in Isabel's tight embrace while she screams her excitement, causing me and Renate to tumble down the five feet we've floated.


	20. Chapter Nineteen: Renate

**Chapter Nineteen: Renate**

I can't stop talking; the whole way back to Ethan's home I chatter endlessly, trying to avoid an uncomfortable silence. Our easy friendship has been tied into a complicated knot by that sudden—and yet definitely not unwelcome—kiss. But while I talk I have to concentrate hard on not bringing a hand to my still tingling lips, the physical remains of that interrupted kiss. Why did Isabel have to go and ruin the moment? My moment? _Our_ moment?

Maybe it's better that she stopped us. No matter what history says, there is no way that Ethan could ever marry me; it would mean one of us having to give up our whole lives—our family, friends, and even technology—to live together. I could never ask Ethan to do that for me, and I know he would never ask me to do that for him. And even if one of us would give all of that up, we would have to create an alias and a reason for our sudden appearance, and then give the impression of just then falling in love. It would be a lot of work.

But it would be worth it…

… if it was possible!

By the time I finish telling Ethan about my first few years of life, we've arrived at his apartment. Before Ethan turns the doorknob I see him give a soft smile and shut his eyes for a fraction longer than is normal. Ethan opens the door, revealing a full moon hanging low beyond a grassy cliff, with a picnic laid out on a red and white checkered blanket. Stars glint in the inky black sky; combined with the abnormally bright moon, the stars provide the only light. The food laid out on the blanket is steaming, as if it has just finished cooking. Two candles sit burning atop a picnic basket.

Ethan takes my hand and leads me over to the meal, seating me on one end of the blanket. He shuts the door, which vanishes with its closure, and goes to sit across from me on the blanket.

The whole scene reminds me so much of my drawing that I find myself uncomfortable with the silence. And so, of course, I chatter. 'And then when I turned seven—,' I begin, but then I realize that Ethan is looking at me intensely. I look into his eyes and watch the candle fires dance in his bright blue eyes. And then suddenly I find myself asking, 'That girl everyone asked you about when I first arrived in this time period: Rochelle. You loved her?'

Ethan's eyes flash but he answers, 'Yes.' I think my heart has begun to shrivel up inside me until Ethan adds, 'But not in the same way I love you.'

This time I instigate the kiss, a wonderful, almost ticklish feeling beginning in my chest and spreading throughout my whole body. When we break apart I murmur, 'I love you too, Ethan. But I don't know how we could ever—.'

'We can,' Ethan says confidently. 'Technically, we already have. I'll talk to the Tribunal about it as soon as I can. I'll take care of it, I promise.' Ethan kisses me again, and sometime while he's kissing me his illusion dissipates, reminding me of where I really am and what I am doing: making out with Ethan on his apartment floor.

I gasp and pull away quickly, remembering all of the times I have ever hidden my eyes from the sight of people participating in similar activities, in similar circumstances. OK, well maybe not in the exact same circumstances as me and Ethan. But similar enough.

Ethan and I stare at each other for a few more moments before I stand and, breaking the silence, whisper, 'Good night.' I leave Ethan in silence, walking into his bedroom to prevent any awkwardness. I shut the door behind me and, remembering how it felt to kiss and be kissed by Ethan, lock it.

Just in case.


	21. Chapter Twenty: Ethan

**Chapter Twenty: Ethan**

I'm not _that_ bad at kissing, am I? Why did Renate walk away like that? Why did she _lock the door?_ I think the whole thing was rather romantic!

Maybe that was her first kiss. Oh hell, what if I just gave Renate her first kiss and she didn't like it? Did I ruin her first kiss!

But she's 25 years old. Of course Renate has had her first kiss!

Or maybe she hasn't. People in the thirteenth century weren't exactly the most physical people in the world, especially with the princess. Maybe that was her first kiss. Maybe it was her first kiss and I ruined it.

Well then she shouldn't have kissed me! It's not like I actually planned the kiss. I planned the illusion, but the kiss was random.

Giving up on my confusion, I stand and start to walk over to the couch when I remember that my pajamas are still in my bedroom. My locked bedroom.

Oh well. What's one night in a business suit? If I can live through Rochelle's death, then I think I can live through a night sleeping in a suit.

I jump onto the couch and shut my eyes to go to sleep, but then I realize: it doesn't hurt to think about Rochelle anymore.


	22. Chapter Twentyone: Ethan

**Chapter Twenty-one: Ethan**

Dropping into a random room of the Citadel, I look up to find the whole gang waiting for me the only person missing is Neriah, but as soon as I take in the room I can understand why:

I am standing in a beautifully decorated cathedral. Stained glass windows on any given wall display wonderfully crafted images of lambs and doves, the glazed colors also reflected onto the floor by the strong sunlight streaming into the ancient stone room. A wooden altar stands at front of the room, beneath the large gold cross that hangs from the wall. Long, twisting streamers in different shades of pink hang to form an eight-sided pyramid over my head. Rows and rows of wooden pews face the altar, but not many people are actually sitting in them:

Arkarian tried to calm an excited Isabel in the back corner, but Dillon is going against him to keep Isabel riled up—a very Dillon think to do. Jimmy is talking animatedly to Dad and fiddles with a small toy. Matt paces up and down the aisle between the two rows of pews, Renate watching his progress from her seat in a pew. I go to sit beside her but Dartemis appears directly in front of me. He goes to introduce himself to Renate, and then begins pacing with Matt, suggesting to his son that he meditate to calm down.

'_I am calm!_' Matt hisses nervously at his father, but Dartemis continues trying to calm Matt.

In the end, it's Neriah's arrival that calms Matt down; as soon as Neriah's feet touch the ground, Matt stops pacing and everyone can see his muscles relax. Neriah, on the other hand, looks up at the room she is now standing in with a stunned expression on her face.

Dartemis gives Matt and small shove, and Matt stumbles forward to wrap Neriah in an embrace. Her previous anger seems to have disappeared when she whispers to her soul-mate, 'Matt, what is everyone doing here?'

Matt gives Neriah a quick kiss and turns to address everyone. 'I brought you all here to witness something that should have happened years ago.' Neriah's eyes widen as Matt turns back to her, sinking down to one knee. 'Neriah,' Matt begins softly, a small smile of confidence creeping across his face, 'I love you, and I know that now matter how angry you get at me, you love me too. So if we're going to spend our entire lives—all of eternity!—loving each other, it would be… indescribably wonderful if we could do so as man and wife.' Matt raises his hands, a hold ring with a lump of coal in the place of a jewel lying delicately in the center. 'Neriah, will you marry me?'

Neriah gasps, an insanely happy smile instantly lighting her face. But the smile fades when she takes in the room again. 'Here?' she asks, suddenly uncertain. Matt nods, suddenly worried. 'Now?' Neriah's voice squeaks as she looks up at the pink streamers.

'Yes!' Matt says worriedly. I can only feel sorry for my former Apprentice, since Neriah's worry is making Matt worry. And Matt does not do well when he is under stress.

'No.' Neriah's refusal takes us all by surprise. Everyone's eyebrows rise, and Arkarian has to physically restrain Isabel from punching someone out. How could Neriah say _no_ to _Matt!_ They're _soul-mates!_ How can she not want to marry Matt?

Neriah, probably picking up everyone's unbridled thoughts, quickly amends her refusal. 'I mean, I would _love_ to marry you Matt! It's just that…' Neriah sighs, realizing that nearly everyone has dropped whatever they had been doing—Jimmy's toy is lying broken on the stone floor—to pay attention. 'It's just that I had always dreamed of getting married in the same place that my parents had… at the peak of the mountain where Arkarian's chambers are—were.'

Everyone just kind of sits there. Matt had everything planned, from the cathedral to the decorations, and now he can't get married here and now because his romantic girlfriend wants to get married in the same place her parents did. Because of Arkarian's chambers now being compromised, it is impossible to hold a wedding right over them.

'Okay.' Now everyone stares at Matt. How can he go against every step he has taken to keep the Guard safe, just so he and his girlfriend can get married? If it was anyone else Matt would have put his foot down and said _no_. But of course, this is Neriah. And Matt can't turn down Neriah. 'We'll hold the wedding above Arkarian's chambers tomorrow morning at eleven.' Matt looks back up at Neriah, a huge amount of hope reflected in his eyes. 'Now will you marry me?'

Neriah smiles one of the biggest smiles I have ever seen and kneels to hug Matt fiercely. 'YES!' Neriah screams, and Matt kisses her after sliding the ring onto Neriah's finger.

Of course, Isabel has to come and ruin the moment. She gives Matt a hard kick in the back, ending the kiss. 'Coal?' she asks, eyebrows raised. 'You gave your fiancé coal? What happened to the traditional diamond?'

Matt, rubbing his back, grins at Isabel as if he is glad that someone has pointed this out. 'Neriah and I are hopefully going to live forever,' Matt explains, standing and offering a hand out to Neriah to help her up as well. 'After many centuries, coal eventually turns into diamonds. This gives Neriah something to look forward to in our marriage—almost like a promise.' Neriah looks delighted at the symbolism of her engagement ring and promptly starts kissing Matt again.

I go to sit next to Renate and take her hand in mine. Together we watch Isabel celebrate her new sister, and Matt's mock hurt at having Isabel tell him that he didn't matter because he had always been there, whereas Neriah was a _new_ sibling. After five minutes of watching this scene, I stand, dragging Renate up with me. I take her to Dartemis, who is standing in a corner and watching his son celebrate his upcoming marriage with a huge grin on his face.

'Dartemis.' The god gives me his attention when I call his name. 'Renate and I need to speak to the whole Tribunal, as soon as possible. We're soul-mates, but—.'

'I know what you need to talk about, Ethan.' Dartemis's eyes go slightly opaque, like Isabel's do when she is having a psychic vision. Dartemis stands still for a few moments, remaining silent, until he finally answers me, 'I cannot allow you to speak to the Tribunal yet. Certain events must take place before anything concerning what you need to talk about may happen.'

I look at Dartemis, confused. 'What events?' I ask. 'What has to happen before we can talk to the Tribunal?'

Dartemis shakes his head, as if he is confused as well. 'I'm not sure,' he replies vaguely. 'My magic allows me to see into the future for general possibilities, meaning that those events are not entirely likely to happen. More likely, something _similar_ is going to happen. But I wonder what could be similar to…' Dartemis shakes his head and looks at me with more clarity. 'I just don't see why Matthew would ever want to betray us.'

Of course, right when Dartemis says this, the whole room goes silent. Every head turns toward Dartemis, all trace of jubilation gone.

'Matt is going to betray the Named?' Isabel asks, eyebrows raised.

'He would never do that!' Neriah argues passionately. 'He is a member of the Tribunal! Matt would never do anything to harm us, or anyone for that matter!'

Even Arkarian, who has never been very friendly with Matt, vouches for him. 'Matt does not have the cruelty it would take to betray any member of the Guard.'

'Yeah,' I agree with Arkarian. 'Matt may be a bit of a block-head, but he's not evil enough to betray anyone.'

'Evil _enough?_' Matt asks innocently. Everyone laughs, and the tension is broken.

The partying continues for another hour or so (it's impossible to tell, since time is not measured in the Citadel) before the future is mentioned again.

'I wonder how our lives are going to be,' Neriah whispers, leaning into Matt's embrace.

Matt smiles up at Dartemis. 'Got anything for us, Dartemis?' he asks, but Dartemis shakes his head at his son.

'Renate brought us the Sphere,' Isabel reminds everyone. 'If we want… that is, if certain people in here allowed us to… we could all go into the future and see how our lives are going to be…' Isabel looks pointedly at Matt, Dartemis, and Arkarian.

'I do not want to know how the rest of eternity is going to be for me,' Dartemis responds. 'But if the rest of you wish to see your own futures before they take place, I see no problem. You all seem to do whatever you wish anyway.' Dartemis looks pointedly back at Isabel, reminding her of the time when she went against even Lorian to rescue Arkarian from the underworld.

Isabel looks hopefully up at Arkarian, expecting her husband to let her see into their futures. 'No.' Arkarian disappoints his wife, earning a sad frown from Isabel. 'Although traveling into the future is not quite as dangerous as traveling into the past, life is meant to be an adventure. Where is the adventure if you already know where the journey ends?'

Isabel then turns to Matt for the final word. 'What is your ruling, o leader pure of heart?' she asks, making her brother a fake reverence.

Matt looks down at Neriah, still huddled in his embrace and looking up at him with hope shining in her eyes. It's obvious that she really wants to know what her future with Matt is going to be like. And because Neriah wants this… 'OK,' Matt answers firmly. 'Let's do it. Let's see our destinies.'


	23. Chapter Twentytwo: Renate

**Chapter Twenty-two: Renate**

The good news is: I'm back in a dress. The bad news is: it's not a dress I'm used to. Apparently, the dressing rooms of the Citadel also contain clothes for traveling into the future, so Arkarian sent everyone to get disguises. But what is the purpose of a disguise on a mission to see our futures? Although I guess it would be kind of weird for the future versions of my new friends to freak out at the sudden appearance of… well, themselves. So everyone who is going on this "mission"—Matt, Neriah, Isabel, Arkarian (reluctantly dragged along by his wife), Dillon, Ethan, and I—have gone to the dressing rooms for disguises.

I go first, ending up in the body of a woman with light brown hair down to my waist. I look into a mirror, my normal green eyes scanning the matching green dress. The dress fits snugly, the bodice is too low, and the skirt is too high. The bottom of the dress has to be at least three centimeters higher than my fingertips and the bodice shows all of my neck in a swooping neckline. The lack of sleeves shows off slightly muscled arms. I nearly give up on the whole mission and turn to run out before someone sees me, but I run right into Ethan.

My body tenses, waiting for the perverted ridicule to begin even though none of this is my fault. After a few moments of silence I realize that Ethan isn't looking at my outfit; he's looking into my eyes and seeing my true form.

'You are beautiful,' he says softly, leaning in to kiss me.

I am in a horribly revealing dress; I am not in the mood to be kissed right now. I lower my head before Ethan can kiss me and back off a few paces, using one hand to yank the top of the dress up and the other to yank the bottom of the dress down.

Ethan laughs and turns to go through the rows of clothing. When he comes out, his brown hair has turned to a shockingly bright blonde and his tanned skin is pale. Unlike me, he has lost most of his muscle to a body that is slightly scrawnier than most; it's entertaining to see what Ethan would look like as a scrawny person. Ethan doesn't share this opinion; when he goes to the mirror to see how he looks, he shakes his head sadly before turning to see how the next person comes out, pulling at the collar of his tight, bright orange shirt.

Neriah is transformed into a redhead with tan skin. She's wearing an outfit similar to mine, but her's is a shirt and skirt that shows some skin between the two clothes. She looks uncomfortable in her outfit as well. Matt looks uncomfortable when he comes out in a similar outfit to Ethan's, except his shirt is red and his pants are khakis instead of jeans. Arkarian appears resigned when he too comes out in a tight shirt and pants, the white shirt dragging more attention to the fact that his long blue hair has been sheared off and turned black. Isabel tugs playfully at his hair as she goes towards the rows of clothing, saying how she likes him better with long blue hair. When she comes out, Arkarian gets revenge; Isabel's hair is as short as his, and a pale blonde color. Dillon goes through the rows next, exiting with khakis and a bright blue shirt. His hair is now a mousy brown color and hangs down to the bottoms of his ears.

We leave to find a door waiting for us, just like when we have to go into the past. Ethan goes to jump first but I stop him before he can follow through with it.

'How far into the future are we going?' I ask curiously, pulling the top of my dress up a bit. But then, of course, the bottom of the dress rises. I yank that down and then have to pull the dress back up again.

'Twenty years,' Arkarian answers. 'I hope Shaun can do this; he's never monitored a mission before, although I've told him he would be good at it. I just hope he's ready to bring us back when we call him name, because otherwise we'll be stuck in the future until he realizes we've been trying to call him.' Arkarian shudders and motions for Ethan to jump. Once Ethan goes, it's my turn.

The last time I went through a door like this one, I had gone six hundred years into the future. Now I'm going twenty more.


	24. Chapter Twentythree: Ethan

**Chapter Twenty-three: Ethan**

I land softly on my feet in what I think is the Citadel; I can't recognize this room at all, but there's a faint mist lying low on the ground. I take a hiding spot in a dark corner of the abstractly-shaped room; there are random corners everywhere, as if the architect just decided that four corners weren't enough, and that having all four corners be the same angle was boring.

Renate comes next, but she blows her landing and goes tumbling into the mist. The noise she makes shifts the attention of three people standing on the other side of the room, but the mist is so thick that it completely covers Renate from view while she is lying on the ground. Seeing nothing, the three people across the room go back to talking; Renate stands and walks carefully over to me. Arkarian comes, and then Isabel, and finally Dillon. All three of them make their ways over to my little corner after arriving.

Once everyone is assembled in my corner, we take a closer look at who the three people talking are. Two of them are instantly recognizable, since their appearances will never change no matter how old they get: Arkarian and Isabel. The present-day Isabel's mouth has to be covered when she nearly calls out to her future self. The other person with them instantly becomes the subject of everyone's attention.

This person—a girl barely out of her teen years, it looks like—has long, ebony hair that goes down to her waist. Brown eyes look slightly frustrated with the people in front of her. Her skin is tan and she looks very strong for a girl her age. It's not until this girl hugs Future-Arkarian and Future-Isabel before we realize who this girl is: Arkarian's and Isabel's daughter. Present-Arkarian's grip on Present-Isabel's mouth has to be tightened so Isabel's screech of delight can't be heard across the room, but Present-Arkarian is doing what the rest of us are trying to do: listen to the conversation.

'Remember,' Future-Arkarian tells his daughter. 'If you ever need to contact us, all you need to do is go to sleep and we'll bring you here immediately.'

'Dad,' the daughter tells Future-Arkarian (henceforth known as FA) exasperatedly, 'I'm just going to college. You knew this day would come!'

'Your father is just being his overprotective self again, aren't you Arkarian?' Future-Isabel (from now on to be referred to as FI) says to her husband and child. 'But he does have a point. The only times you've ever been outside the Citadel have been to go on missions and to Athens, and now you're going all the way to America! To an American military school!'

'You know I can handle it,' the daughter says, flexing a muscle. 'Especially with super strength and healing for skills. And I thought you would find it funny that I'm going to a called the Citadel!'

'It's not that we don't think you can succeed there, Meckenzie.' Isabel's eyes go watery when she hears her future self say the name of her future daughter. 'We're probably going to be the same way when your brother—.'

'Mom, don't drag your visions into this.'

'Why not?'

'Maybe because I don't have a brother yet?'

FI shakes her head at her daughter. 'Well, let's just stop arguing. This isn't about visions; this is about you… leaving us… forever…'

'I'm not leaving you forever, Mom!' Meckenzie says exasperatedly. 'Dad _just_ said that all I have to do when I need you guys is go to sleep and you'll yank me back here.'

Suddenly another man lands next to the family: the future Matt. He looks pretty much the same as he does now, except maybe a bit more mature and definitely angrier. 'Stupid woman won't stay in bed…' FM (Future-Matt) grumbles to himself, getting the attention of FI, FA, and Meckenzie.

'Is Neriah sick?' FI asks worriedly. 'Do you need me to go heal her?'

'No, she's not sick.' Suddenly the angry look on FM's face turns into one of pure joy. 'She's pregnant!'

FI hugs her brother fiercely; if FM wasn't an Immortal I'm sure FI would have broken his back with the hug she's giving him. FM returns the hug while FA asks curiously, 'Why do you want her to stay in bed?'

Pulling himself out of FI's hug, FM looks at FA and begins to answer when FN—Future-Neriah—lands between them. 'Because he's being an idiot.' FM catches FI before she can envelope FN in one of her bone-snapping hugs.

'Just because Neriah is Immortal doesn't mean the baby is!' FM growls at his sister, who instantly backs off at the dark look her brother is giving her.

I look back at Matt and Neriah; they're holding hands and their faces are insanely happy. I smile at them and turn back to the events going on with FN, FM, FI, FA, and Meckenzie.

Suddenly Arkarian sneezes, pulling his hand away from Isabel's mouth. Now being released, Isabel screeches. All five of the future people turn to see who made the noises. Our cover blown, we all walk guiltily out from our shadowy corner.

To my surprise and everyone else's, FI sees us and calls out, 'It's about time you got here! I remember going to the future much earlier in this conversation!'

A very confused group of Guards walks up to meet the futures Matt, Neriah, Isabel, Arkarian, and Meckenzie. Well, everyone but Arkarian seems confused; Arkarian just goes to shake his future self's hand.

'What the hell?' I murmur to Renate, gesturing towards Arkarian shaking what is practically his own hand.

Arkarian hears this and turns to me. Both him and FA say, in perfect unison, 'When you're as old as I am, Ethan, you don't get many surprises.' Everyone laughs at the two Arkarians, present and future—or, in the cases of FA, FI, FM, and FN, past and present—lecturing me; it seems that Arkarian, besides becoming a parent, will never change.

Isabel immediately goes over to Meckenzie. 'I know you're just now going into college, but how old are you?'

Meckenzie looks shocked; out of everyone in this room, she is the only one who does not know about our mission into the future. 'Um… nineteen…'

'And when's your birthday?'

'December 12, 2007… Why?'

Isabel turns and hugs Arkarian, a giant grin on her face. 'Two months…' she murmurs.

'Can anyone tell me what's going on here?'

Immediately everyone turns and begins explaining to Meckenzie who everyone is and why they are here. When Meckenzie hears my name she looks shocked and stares at me for a long time before turning back to everyone else. When I ask FI why, she answers that nearly every childhood story she's told Meckenzie has me in it somewhere, and it's usually depicting me as a great hero. I laugh at this ridiculousness.

A new person drops into the room a few moments later: FD, or Future-Dillon. He looks incredibly happy.

'You guys, I think this one's the one!' FD exclaims, throwing his hands up into the air. Then he notices himself standing on the other side of the room—or, his past/present self. Shaking his head FD mutters, 'I am so glad I got my hair cut changed.'

Dillon instantly runs a hand through his hair worriedly.

'What were you saying, Dillon?'

FD turns to his questioner, FN, and answers, 'I think my girlfriend is the one! I think she's my soul-mate!'

'Yeah, Dillon,' FI says sarcastically, rolling her eyes. 'You've said that about the last twenty girls you've had your eyes on, and they've all turned out to be other people's soul-mates.

Everyone laughs except for the two Dillons; their cheeks go a deep shade of red. But while everyone is laughing, I am thinking: where is the future me? Where is FE?

'Where am I?' I ask suddenly, ending the laughter.

FD and Dillon each take one of my shoulders. Simultaneously, they say slowly, 'You're in the future, mate.'

I punch each of them playfully. 'That's not what I meant! I meant where is the future me?'

The room goes silent. Dillon and FD drop their hands from my shoulders. FI comes forward and looks into my eyes, smiling. 'You went back in time to live with Renate.'

'_Yes!_' I exclaim, picking Renate up and swinging her around. Now the two of _us_ are wearing silly grins along with Arkarian, Isabel, Matt, and Neriah. When I put Renate down on the ground she kisses me, even though she hates it when couples kiss in front of other people.

We only stop kissing when I hear Dillon say to Meckenzie: 'So… super strength. Awesome. Want to find out who's stronger?' I pull away and look up to see Dillon flexing a muscle for Meckenzie, trying to intimidate her. Meckenzie, however, is not intimidated.

She's amused. '_You_ want to challenge _me?_' Meckenzie says lightly. She glances at FD and says to him, 'I can't believe how much of an idiot you were when you were younger!' Then, turning back to Dillon: 'Sure. Let's fight. The first one whose butt touches the ground loses.'

Dillon, not intimidated, looks over at his future self before walking into the center of the room with Meckenzie; FD is shaking his head sorrowfully.

Dillon and Meckenzie take their places in the center, and FI yells "One… Two… Three… _Fight!_'

Meckenzie punches Dillon hard in the stomach… and Dillon goes flying all the way across the room. He hits the wall, cracking it, and slides down to the floor. Stunned, he looks back at Meckenzie and says shortly, rubbing his stomach, '_Ow_.'

FI goes to make sure Dillon is okay, while FD yells over, 'I wanted to warn you but I knew you wouldn't listen…'

Isabel, on the other hand, looks at Meckenzie with a huge smile on her face. 'I love our daughter!' she says, burying herself in Arkarian's embrace. Hearing this, Meckenzie's face flushes with embarrassment.

'Mom?' Meckenzie yells. 'Were you and Dad really this… _happy_… when you first got married?'

FI, having finished healing Dillon from whatever injury he had sustained, turns to her daughter. 'Every newlywed couple is.'

This leads to Meckenzie asking us—the present, or past, versions of her parents and her parents' friends—whether certain stories she's hear are true. It takes almost the whole day before FI and FA remind Meckenzie that she is supposed to be going off to college today, and the girl waves goodbye and vanishes. With that, the whole group decides that it is time for us to go back home as well.

We huddle closer and yell as one, '_Shaun!_' Instantly we find ourselves back at our own, present-day Citadel. Shaun and Jimmy hurry to meet us, asking hurriedly how things went. Isabel & Arkarian and Matt & Neriah launch into explanations about their futures, but Renate and I hang back and look at each other, happy with what we've learned from our trip into the future. With everyone's attentions diverted, I lean in and kiss her.


	25. Chapter Twentyfour: Ethan

**Chapter Twenty-four: Ethan**

I return from the Citadel, waking up in my normal body. A quick look out the window tells me that the sun is just now rising.

I get up and stretch and, yawning hugely, walk to the bedroom door. I go to open it but the doorknob resists; the door is still locked. I give a short sigh and close my eyes, using my animation skill to turn the lock on the other side of the door. Making a mental note to tell Renate about this handy aspect of my powers, I enter the room to find Renate still fast asleep; she's probably still at the Citadel, listening to everyone's exciting futures.

Careful not to disturb her body too much, I rest a hand gently on her cheek; I know from personal experience how sick you can get if your body is disturbed while your body is not inside it. What I would really like to do is to lie down next to Renate and be there when she opens her eyes, but I know it would freak her out is she woke up with me lying next to her in my bed.

Instead, I go and take a shower. When I'm finished, I open the shower curtain and find my robes—the ones I usually only wear in Athens—hanging from the hook on my bathroom door. I shake my head at the sight, a little grossed out that either Arkarian or Matt was in my bathroom while I was in the shower, but pull the robes on anyway.

The copper-colored tunic, marking me as the Master of Animation—a title I gained less than a year ago when I finally passed beyond the Trainer level—fits perfectly. I belt the silver rope around my waist, remembering when Arkarian first taught me the symbols of colors for robes and belts: at first I had been confused, because my belt has always—except for when I had gotten myself into trouble and worn all black to represent dishonor to the Guard—been that same silver color even though Apprentices are supposed to wear all white to show their novice statuses. Then Arkarian had explained that my silver belt meant that I was a member of the Guard's most elite group of soldiers: the Named, mentioned in the ancient prophecy predicting Lathenia's final defeat.

When I'm done, I open the bathroom door to see Renate, sitting up in bed and wiping sleep out of her eyes. When she sees me looking at her from the bathroom doorway, she gasps and levitates two meters above the bed.

'But I locked—but you're here—how did you—_what are you doing in here!_' Renate stutters at me.

I explain how I miraculously ended up in my own bedroom and then suggest that Renate bathe and change into the neatly folded pile of robes waiting for her at the edge of the bed.

Renate shows distaste for the idea. 'But you made me bathe yesterday!' she exclaims, floating downwards slightly. 'Why do I have to take another bath?'

I wait for Renate to land lightly on the bed before answering her. 'Firstly: it's considered disgusting if a person does not bathe on a daily basis here in your future. Secondly: we're going to a wedding. Thirdly: you'll feel better after a bath.'

Renate looks squarely at me in the eyes and for a second my breath catches; I can see her soul in her eyes, showing me her true form. Renate breaks the moment with her rebuttal: 'Firstly: you have no bath attendants. Either get bath attendants or I don't bathe. Secondly: you have no bath attendants. Either get bath attendants or I don't bathe. And thirdly—.'

'I have no bath attendants but that is not going to stop you from bathing yourself,' I interrupt. Then I grin evilly at the woman still lying in my bed. 'Of course, if you _really_ need an attendant, I guess _I_ could attend you…'

Renate's face goes incredibly red and she draws the blankets up around her uncomfortably. 'I will thank you to not voice such vulgar thoughts in the future,' she reproaches me sternly.

I lean in close so that our faces are maybe two centimeters apart. I shove her robes into her hands and say seriously, all hint of that evil grin now gone, 'Then go take a bath without attendants.'

Renate scowls at me for a second but then gets out of the bed and stalks into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. A few moments later I hear her shout through the door, 'Wow, this water sure is cold!'

I go to lean against the bathroom door so Renate can't try to escape. 'Nice try!' I shout back. 'But I didn't hear the water running!'

A moment of silence, and then: 'I'm just… pulling off my nightclothes…'

'Sure you are…' I murmur to myself, adjusting my position against the door to a more comfortable one. I hear the water run, but I am not satisfied that Renate is actually taking a bath until I hear her step into the tub and start cursing about the abomination that is soap. While I wait for Renate to finish up, I change the sheets on the bed and make the bed, using only a little bit of help from my animation skills. When I next turn to face the bathroom, the door is open and Renate is standing in the doorway, her wet hair dripping onto her robes. The white color of the tunic reveals her Apprentice status, but the green belt—the color matching her eyes—shows that she is stuck in a time other than her own.

'Now don't you feel cleaner after your nice bath?' I ask Renate. Then, before she can answer, I grab her hand and begin pulling her to the door, explaining that we should get to the mountain early. But before my hand even brushes against the doorknob, I stop; a sudden, overwhelming feeling of dread is spreading though me and I can't get rid of it.

'What's wrong?' Renate asks, picking up on my sudden change of attitude.

I give my head a quick shake, trying to clear it. Then, dropping Renate's hand, I go to me closet and begin going through all of the crap that's accumulated in there. I finally come to the special safe I asked Jimmy to make six years ago, made especially so that I am the only person who can open it. The door to the safe is covered by a Plexiglas maze. One of the transparent walls of the maze is actually a lever that I have to guide a silver ball over, using my animation skill. The safe is made so that no truthseer can pluck a combination from my head; no person with super strength can just break their way in; the only way to get into the safe is if the person has animation skills and knows exactly which wall is the lever. After Rochelle, I didn't ever want anyone to use my weapon to kill someone I cared for.

Once I roll the ball over the lever, the door to the safe swings open. I carefully reach in and bring out my golden bow and arrow set. I don't know why I'm bringing it to a wedding; I just have this feeling telling me that I'm going to need it. And since one o my skills is instinct, I don't want to just disregard this feeling.

Renate's eyes widen when she sees me come out of my closet with a golden bow and a quiver of golden arrows slung over my right shoulder. 'OK,' I say unsteadily, re-adjusting the strap of the quiver. 'Let's get going. We don't want to be late for Matt and Neriah's wedding.'


	26. Chapter Twentyfive: Renate

**Chapter Twenty-five: Renate**

Ethan and I make it to the top of the mountain that hides Arkarian's chambers, but we are very early for the eleven o'clock wedding. The little digital numbers that Ethan swears tell the time had projected 9:15 before Ethan had turned off his 'car.' It's probably been about an hour since then.

Ethan turns to me and takes a fighter's stance. 'While we're here, I might as well train you a bit more,' he suggests, gesturing for me to position for an attack.

My eyes go wide and I sit down, refusing to take part in this. 'I'm in my robes, Ethan. I'm not going to fight you in my robes.'

'You didn't have a problem with it when you were in priestess's robes.'

'You didn't give me any warning when I was wearing the priestess's robes!' I remind him. 'And didn't you notice that I didn't use my legs at all in that practice session? Not even to dodge your attempt to trip me?'

'I thought that was a bit odd…'

'I'm not going to fight you in robes.'

'Well what do you think members of the Order would do?' Ethan asks, exasperated. 'You will be in the past, which, in nearly any place and time, would mean that you will be wearing some sort of dress. But don't think that soldiers for the Order are going to stop and say, "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't notice you were in a dress. I'll just wait right here while you go change into fighting garb." They are going to battle you anyway!'

'That doesn't mean that I have to fight _you_ right _now_.'

'Yes it does. What do you think "Trainer" means?'

'Were you this gruff with your other Apprentices?'

'Only with Isabel, but that was because I was given only three weeks to train her.'

'_Isabel_ was your Apprentice!'

'Yes. So was Matt for a while, but then his Trainer changed to Dartemis. And then Neriah was my Apprentice… and then I was given a few other people to train but they never seemed interested after Lathenia was killed.'

'Wow.'

Ethan sits down in front of me and suggests, 'Let's work on your paranormal skills if you don't want to work on your physical skills.'

'Thanks.'

'For what?'

'Nothing. Which skill are we working on?'

'The one you need more practice on: levitation.'

'So far I've only been able to levitate when I'm feeling strongly about something.'

'That's how most of our skills are. Isabel used to only be able to heal people if she cared about them; I once blew up a clock when I concentrated on it too hard; Rochelle disintegrated a chair when she was worried about me once; you saw Dillon pound his fist through that desk the other day…'

'You compare the other members of the Named to everything, don't you?'

Ethan smiles. 'We're very close. And how can we not be if we used to constantly save each other's lives? Not to mention the fact that one of them is my father and another one might as well be my brother.'

'Matt?'

'No; Arkarian. I've known him since I was four years old; he was my Trainer.'

'And I thought we were going to train.'

'And so we shall!' Ethan sits up straight and looks me in the eye. 'What usually gets you to levitate?'

I blush. I really don't want to tell Ethan that he is the reason I have levitated. Every time I have gone up in the air, it has been because I was thinking of Ethan or because Ethan had done something that made me feel… wonderful. What would he think if I told him that he causes me to levitate?

'I don't know,' I tell him in a small voice, looking away. Could I be any more obvious?

'Well, let's think back on every time you've levitated,' Ethan offers. Great; we're going to review every time I've levitated, and he's going to realize that every time I've floated has had something to do with him. 'There was the first time, when you were looking at me and then you suddenly went floating.'

'And then the second time, when you kissed me,' I add.

'And just today, when you saw me coming out of the bathroom when you had locked me out of the bedroom.' Ethan grins and takes my hands in his. 'It sounds like _I_ make you levitate.'

Well, at least he figured it out for himself. And a part of me thinks that he's saying this jokingly, not believing his words. 'It sounds like it,' I support his theory, hoping he'll drop it.

But then Ethan leans in and kisses me. And every little bit of how romantic this situation is—alone, on a mountaintop, with Ethan kissing me—is enhanced. I sigh, and then find myself levitating, pulling me away from Ethan.

Below me, Ethan smiles. 'Case in point,' he says triumphantly. 'Keep going; see how high you can go.'

Following his instructions, I keep my mind on the kiss. I lose myself in the memory and close my eyes, not really caring how high I end up flying. Thinking about the kiss leads to thinking about what our futures could possibly be like if I stayed here with Ethan or if he came and lived with me, and we actually did end up married. Maybe we would have a family, or maybe we would just spend the rest of our lives as just us two.

I only open my eyes when I start finding it difficult to breathe—and I see all of Australia and New Zealand lying below me. I suck in a deep breath and all thoughts of Ethan immediately vanish from my mind; I start to fall.

I scream and kick and reach out, trying to grab anything that will stop my fall from such a terrible height. Of course, there is nothing for me to grab onto. I continue screaming until finally my logical mind kicks in, telling me that Arkarian had said to think about a slow descent if that is what I wanted. So I take a deep breath and force myself to look down at the ground and think: _slow_. I find myself slowing down.

I slowly sink back down. When Ethan comes into view, I see that he has moved a bit farther to the left than he had been before; my fall must have thrown me off a bit. I look around and see the rest of the group coming up the mountain, some of them looking as if they are getting ready to use their wings so they don't have to walk all the way up. When I finally land on the ground, there is an audience applauding my 'perfect' landing. I neglect to tell anyone about my short fall.

When everyone is finished applauding my landing, everyone but Dartemis, Matt, and Neriah takes a seat on the ground, facing where the direction the sun rises. Dartemis, Matt, and Neriah stand at the front, Dartemis between Matt and Neriah. I sit next to Ethan, holding his hand. Ethan's other hand is tightly clutching his gold bow; the quiver of golden arrows is still slung over his shoulder.

Dartemis, Matt, and Neriah appear to be the only people not in Athenian robes. When I point this out to Ethan, he explains that as members of the Tribunal, they don't have to wear the traditional robes that everyone else has to wear. Instead, Dartemis is wearing an outfit that a knight might wear in my time period: a tunic of scarlet velvet, belted at the waist by a thick leather belt, covers all but the sleeves of his light blue silk shirt. Light blue leggings covered his legs and leather boots adorned his feet. Unlike most knights, however, Dartemis does not have a sword sheathed at his belt; Dartemis does not have any weapon on him. And why would he? Only a crazy person—or Ethan—would bring a weapon to a wedding. Matt is wearing similar clothes, only in different colors: his tunic is deep green, the shirt and leggings a shimmering silver color. Neriah is wearing something completely different from the men standing with her: she is wearing an outfit that Ethan tells me is called a 'kimono.' Whatever it is, it is very beautiful; different shades of blue, green, and yellow change in patterns on the cloth of the dress. Her hair is pulled up into a normal ponytail, contrasting the elegance of her gown with a casual hairstyle.

I look around at everyone else. Everyone is wearing their robes from Athens. Everyone but me and Dillon are wearing silver belts, no matter what color their robes are. Arkarian's full outfit is silver. I try to remember when Arkarian tried to teach me the symbolisms behind the colors of the tunics and robes. I know that the silver belt means that the wearer is one of the Named from the prophecy, and that Arkarian's silver tunic means that he has the title of Truthmaster. I know that white means that the wearer is an Apprentice, but I am the only one in this color.

My attention is dragged back to Dartemis when he begins to speak, addressing everyone. 'I have been given the great honor and pleasure,' he says, taking Matt's right hand in his right hand, and Neriah's left hand in his left hand, so that Matt and Neriah's arms are crossed in front of Dartemis, 'of performing the marriage ceremony for my son Matthew and the beautiful Neriah. Although I must say that this day should have come earlier, I am nevertheless glad to be here today.

'Marriage is about loyalty to each other. However, it is important, in any relationship, to remain loyal to oneself and to one's friends and obligations. Both of you,' Dartemis is now speaking to Matt and Neriah, looking at each of them in turn. 'Both of you needs to remember this, especially since you are Immortals. It is important to be together, but it is just as important to find time separately.'

Dartemis talks for a while about loyalty and love. It takes me a while to realize that this is the actual wedding ceremony; it's not a father talking about his son's wedding. Immortals are weird; there's no mention of Christ anywhere in this ceremony, and weddings are supposed to be religious ceremonies! Then he gets to the only part of the ceremony that sounds familiar:

'You may now kiss the bride!'

As Matt and Neriah lean in to kiss each other, Ethan lets go of my hand to hold on tightly to his bow and reach for one of his arrows. Towards the back row, Isabel falls sideways into Arkarian's arms, holding her head in pain. Her groan of pain is small, but it catches the attention of everyone present, even Matt's and Neriah's. They break apart to see Isabel writhing in pain, Arkarian murmuring for her to stop fighting whatever is happening to her.

Isabel opens her eyes and looks at everyone. Nearly everyone has left their seat to stand around Isabel and Arkarian, looking worriedly down at Isabel. Isabel pulls herself out of Arkarian's arms and stands up, saying frantically, 'We have to get out of here! _Now!_'

The earth starts trembling furiously. Bits of rock and dirt uproot themselves from the mountain and start swirling around us, forming an almost octagonal cyclone with us inside its center. Lightening of different colors—green, blue, purple, red, yellow, even black—streaks through the sky. Hail begins falling from the sky, but the hail catches on fire as soon as it hits something; people begin putting out fires that spring up on them or on other people. Matt, Dartemis, and Neriah try to blanket themselves over as many people as possible, their bodies forming a pyramidal shape of sorts; being Immortals, they can be struck by the rocks, lightening, hail, and other debris without getting hurt, but they want to help protect as many people as they can. Only Ethan does not want to be protected. He stands, somehow avoiding being hit by anything, in an archer's stance. His eyes are flitting around, searching for an enemy he can target.

'_Ethan you idiot!_' Isabel screeches at him from under Matt's arms. '_Get the hell in here and stop playing the hero!_' Her screams are lost among everyone else's.

Everything suddenly goes in slow motion. While I hurry to try to get to Ethan—held back by Arkarian and Isabel and Shaun—I see a piece of hail catch Ethan's back on fire. Ethan tries to put out the fire by reaching behind him, but this movement causes him to lose his balance and fall into the cyclone of rocks and dirt. The rocks beat him back into the center, close enough for me to reach out and pull him underneath Matt, Neriah, and Dartemis, but not soon enough to avoid torrents of hail from striking his body and setting it on fire. Arkarian, Shaun, and I beat the fire off while Isabel tries to heal Ethan, but then there's a sudden sensation of flying—unlike the feeling I get when I levitate; more like someone is yanking me upwards by the back of my robes—and everything goes black.


	27. Chapter Twentysix: Ethan

**Chapter Twenty-six: Ethan**

When I open my eyes, I suddenly feel disoriented; the last thing I remember is getting hit in the head by a rock, but now I'm here in this… room. And remembering the rock hitting me suddenly brings on a new feeling: _pain_. Lots and lots of _pain_. I cry out, feeling for injuries, but then Arkarian comes and kneels next to me.

'Don't move,' he tells me. 'Most of your body has been burned, and I think some of those rocks might have broken a few bones… I wish they'd kept Isabel with us…'

What? Isabel's not here? 'Where is Isabel?' I ask Arkarian through gritted teeth. 'And where's Renate?' Suddenly all I can think about is Renate: where is she? Why isn't she here? Was she hurt?

'I don't know where any of the girls are. It's separated us into two groups: boys and girls.'

Suddenly Dad is at my side. 'Ethan, are you okay?' he asks worriedly.

I want to—and probably should—say no and tell them what hurts so that they can properly bandage me, but something inside me won't tell my dad that every part of me hurts, that I can't move half my limbs, that I can barely breathe. 'Yeah,' I tell him, biting my tongue for lying to my father. 'Yeah, I think I'm okay.' To prove it, I try to stand up, but my right leg can't seem to take it. It crumples under me and I scream in pain. The fall causes me to land on my wrists, jarring what must be a broken bone in my left arm, and I scream harder. Tears start pouring down my face.

'_Ethan!_' I hear Renate scream. There's a pounding on the far wall, as if someone is trying to break through it. '_Ethan!_'

I think the voice is a hallucination until I see that everyone else here—Arkarian, Dad, Dillon, Jimmy, Matt, and Dartemis—is also reacting to the noise. What is going on? Why am I having such trouble breathing?

'What's happening?' I wheeze out, not daring to move for fear of causing more pain.

Everyone turns back to me. Arkarian asks, 'What do you remember?'

I close my eyes, partially from pain and partially from the effort of trying to remember, and say slowly, 'A rock cyclone… hail… lightening… fire… then waking up here.'

Arkarian looks worriedly down at me. 'Lathenia's child has taken us to the dungeons of its underworld palace, separating the men from the women. We're locked down here. We've still got our skills, but we don't think there's any way to use them to get out of here.'

'The cells are made of rock,' Matt explains, 'so Renate can't use her skill to blast the metal out of the walls. Even the door is just a giant rock in a hole, too heavy to lift even with Immortal power. If you were healthy, I would suggest you try to move it, but I won't ask that of you. The only air we're getting is through a tiny slit between the rock door and the ceiling. The girls are just in the next room but we can only hear each other if we scream, or if me or Arkarian or Dartemis contacts Neriah with our thoughts. There's no way to get out of here.'

'There's… gotta be a way…' I wheeze. 'They got us… in here… didn't they?'

'We were all blacked out when they put us in here,' Dad explains, one hand held just over me as if he wants to run his hand over me to comfort me, but doesn't know where to put his hand. I must really look bad if Dad isn't doing anything to help me.

'What about using… our wings…?' I ask slowly. It's getting even harder to breathe with every word I let out.

Arkarian notices this. 'This is the last thing you're allowed to say,' he tells me with a small smile. 'The only ones who are able to use our wings are me, Matt, Dartemis, Jimmy, and Shaun. If we left, that would mean leaving you and Dillon here alone. And we don't know anything about this palace or the underworld in general.'

'Renate wants you to know she's worried about you,' Matt says, his eyes closed. He must be receiving her thoughts.

Following Arkarian's instructions to not talk anymore, I use my thoughts to converse. I direct my thoughts through the wall, towards where I hope Neriah is, and think as hard as I can, _Tell Renate not to worry about me. Tell her that I love her and that we're going to get out of this._ Arkarian, Dartemis, and Matt all seem fascinated with their shoes, probably trying to tune out my thoughts so that I can have as private a conversation as possible with Renate.

A few moments of silence pass before Matt coughs lightly and says, 'Neriah wants me to tell you that Renate says she _does_ worry about you and she loves you too.'

I look at Matt and think at him, _I'm sorry this happened on your wedding day._

Matt looks at me swiftly and says softly, 'Don't be. This isn't your fault; it's mine. I should have realized it would have been too dangerous to go anywhere near the mountain after Lathenia's child took the location of Arkarian's chambers out of your mother's head. I should have told Neriah that we couldn't hold the wedding on the mountain. If anything, _I'm_ sorry _you_ got hurt.'

'This is all very entertaining,' Dillon says in a strained voice, 'but it's also very confusing, listening to a one-sided conversation.' Dad and Jimmy nod their heads in agreement.

I ignore them and use my thoughts to ask Matt how the girls are. Matt responds, his voice still soft, 'Neriah is fine, of course. Isabel is frustrated that she can't heal you; I've explained how you look and everything that I think is wrong and that there is too much for me or Dartemis to even try to heal. Renate keeps beaming out worries over you and memories of you and her together.' Matt looks back down at his shoes. 'It can get a bit embarrassing to hear, sometimes.'

I can't help it; I laugh. _We never did anything worse than kiss,_ I tell Matt.

Matt just grins at me. 'It's still uncomfortable hearing about how your friend created the illusion of "a moonlit mountaintop cliff with a picnic dinner, the most romantic scene anyone could ever imagine!". I think you're making me look bad, especially with Neriah right there to pick up Renate's thoughts without interference!'

Everyone laughs, but the laughter feels forced. It's hard to act casual when you're being held prisoner by an enemy you don't know anything about; an enemy that doesn't even have a name. The fact that our enemy doesn't have a name just makes it that much more frightening. It's like not being in one of those horror movies where the victim feels something behind them, but when they turn around nothing is there.

There are a few minutes of total silence. Arkarian takes a seat next to me and rests a hand on my good arm. I look up at him, curious.

'Do you remember,' Arkarian begins, a slight smile on his face, 'your first solo mission? When you were six years old, and I had had to talk the Tribunal into letting you go on your own?' Arkarian has everyone's attention. 'Your mission was to make sure George Washington made it across the Delaware River. It was a big mission and you were so happy that the Tribunal trusted you to do this, even at such a young age. Remember how none of the American soldiers took you seriously? Remember their faces when they saw a six-year-old boy take out what looked like one of their own soldiers trying to suffocate George Washington in his sleep? No, wait; remember the _soldier's_ face when he realized he'd been beat by a six-year-old?' Everyone in the room laughs, and this time the laugh is a real one. I do remember that first mission and it's good to hear about right now. Arkarian continues the story: 'You came back to the Citadel with so much confidence, bragging about how you had discovered and beaten Lathenia's soldier all by yourself. You even described the Order's soldier as having "run back to his mommy."' Everyone laughs again.

All this laughing is making it more difficult for air to reach my lungs. I think one of my ribs must have broken and punctured a lung. I close my eyes to go to sleep, to dream of being back home with Renate…

'No, Ethan.' I look grumpily back up at Matt. He looks down apologetically at me. 'Neriah says that Isabel thinks you might have a concussion. If you go to sleep, you might not wake up again.'

I verbally tell Matt to tell Neriah to tell Isabel to do something inappropriate, and I think that if I wasn't already as badly hurt as I am then Arkarian would punch me. I almost want him to; it might make me lose consciousness. But all he does is glare at me and tell me to not talk anymore.

I close my eyes anyway but then Arkarian threatens to hold my eyes open for me, although I could care less what Isabel says could happen to me. This hurts too much to stay awake. Besides, I'm sure that if Isabel knew how much pain I am in then she would gladly let me sleep. Right now I'm remembering every time I've cracked my knuckles, and wishing I hadn't.

'Ethan,' Arkarian says, trying to keep me awake. 'Do you remember the one mission when you were eight…?' I listen to Arkarian's voice telling the story and hear everyone laugh at the conclusion, but I don't really hear anything.

Instead I am taking back every mean thing I've ever said or thought of someone. I am mentally apologizing to any person—including members of the Order—that I have ever hurt, whether it was intentional or accidental. I mentally say good-bye to my mother. While I do this, Arkarian's voice becomes more frantic, and Matt and Dillon cast me worried looks. But the thing is, I know why Arkarian is only telling stories about _my_ missions: Arkarian doesn't expect me to live through this. And I think he's right.


	28. Chapter Twentyseven: Renate

**Chapter Twenty-seven: Renate**

'_Ethan!_' I scream. I know I heard him! I know I heard him scream in pain! '_Ethan!_' I scratch at the wall, kick it, punch at it, but nothing causes it to break down. I search for any trace of metal inside the walls but I can't feel any with my skill. Levitation can't help me get to him, since there's a low ceiling. I need to get to Ethan! He's hurt and there's no healer with him!

'Calm down, Renate,' Isabel says gently, pulling me away from the wall. 'We're all worried about everyone in there—.'

'But Ethan needs a healer! He needs _you!_'

'I know that. And as long as the rest of the guys can keep him awake, he should be fine.'

I hear Isabel's voice crack with the words, 'should be.' 'Should be' is not good enough for me. I continue banging away on the walls. Isabel and Neriah let me continue banging for a while.

'Renate,' Neriah says after a few minutes. I stop banging and glare at her, ready with a retort if she tries to tell me to sit down. 'Ethan wants me to tell you not to worry. He wants me to tell you that he loves you and that we're all going to get out of this.'

I sit down, my legs to wobbly to support me anymore. Tears run down my face. 'Tell Matt or Dartemis or whoever to tell Ethan that I _do_ worry about him… and that I love him too.'

Isabel and Neriah come and embrace me, and then I realize that they're crying too. I realize that Isabel and Neriah must both be worried about their husbands, just like I am worried about Ethan.

I start remembering every time Ethan and I have been together alone… every intimate moment between us… every kiss. I wish I had been more receptive to the idea of his being my soul-mate; it might have meant more time spent together as a couple.

Suddenly Neriah pulls away with a crooked smile on her face. 'Matt never took me to a mountaintop cliff for a picnic dinner!' she says, trying to act affronted. 'I'll have to talk to him about that when we get back home.' Isabel and I laugh.

'I'm sorry this had to happen on your wedding day,' I tell Neriah sadly. 'Today was supposed to be a happy day, and this all had to happen—.'

'Don't be sorry,' Neriah tells me quickly, looking down. 'If I hadn't asked Matt to have our wedding on the mountaintop, then none of this would have happened. Just think!' she suddenly exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. 'Lathenia's child… my half-brother/sister/thing… must have been waiting for us to return to the mountain! And we walked right into the trap! All because I had to have my wedding in the most romantic spot, the place that meant the most for me to hold my wedding at…'

'It's not your fault for trying to be romantic,' Isabel comforts Neriah. 'Remember when I used to skip school so Arkarian and I could have some time alone?' The two girls laugh.

'You went to _school?_' I ask, amazed. The two girls look at me strangely. 'The only people who go to schools in my time are scholars or advisors to the king, and they are never women!'

Now Isabel and Neriah are laughing at _me_, at my lack of knowledge of the future. 'Nowadays,' Isabel explains, 'it is against the law if _anyone_, boy or girl, doesn't go to school. They could be sent to jail—the dungeons—if they don't go to school.' My eyes widen. How can it go from being illegal to go to school to being illegal to _not_ go to school? And all in six hundred years!

'Ethan's trying to go to sleep,' Neriah tells us.

'Good,' I say at the same time Isabel exclaims '_No!_'

'Tell Matt that Ethan _can't_ go to sleep! I think he has a concussion, so if he goes to sleep he might not wake up again!' Isabel looks frustrated. 'I should be there to heal him!' Isabel runs her hands through her hair, shaking blonde locks out over her shoulders. 'Of course, if the Tribunal had given me wings I could just pop over there and heal him, but noooo… why give wings to the most powerful healer to ever exist? No! Let's make sure that she can't just zoom over to anyone in need!' Isabel turns on Neriah. 'I've been a member of the Guard for nine years, Neriah! Why hasn't the Tribunal given me my wings!'

'It's not like we haven't considered it,' Neriah says softly yet defensively. 'Matt has always been ready to give you your wings, but everyone else wanted you to have more experience as a member of the Guard before actually giving them to you. Remember: Ethan had been a member of the Guard for twelve years before he was given his wings.'

Before Isabel can bite Neriah's head off with another accusation, I cut in and stand between them. 'Stop it! You're fighting each other when we _should_ be sticking together and trying to figure out a way out of here!'

Neriah shakes her head. 'There's no way out of here,' she says in a disappointed voice. She sits down hard and leans against the wall behind her. A tear slides down her cheek.

Isabel, just as upset, runs into the large stone door, trying to dislodge it. Obviously, the effort is ineffective. But Isabel keeps striking the door, doing everything she can to move it out of the way. I go to help her, and after a while Neriah joins us, her face dry.

All three of us are punching and kicking at the door when it suddenly moves out and away from us with surprising ease, as if it simply _ran_ away from us. There's a long passageway there, and we watch the large stone slide along the passage, scraping against the walls. I look at Neriah and Isabel, wondering if we should follow the stone. But then a glimmer of firelight dances on the walls, and a man turns the corner and begins walking towards us, a flaming torch held in one hand.

The man has wavy blonde hair and silver eyes. He goes to stand in the center of the room and tells us to lie down flat until he tells us otherwise. Isabel, Neriah, and I are hesitant to follow his command until he repeats the order in a sharp yell, and we instantly lie flat on the ground. From where I'm lying I can hear the man blowing gently from the center of the room; I'm guessing he's making it impossible for anything—words or thoughts—to leave the room. He wants to make sure that the men don't know what is happening in here. The man tells us to stand up.

'I want to give you the chance to live,' he says coldly. 'I have taken the male form to make you more comfortable with my presence.' Then it hits me: this is Lathenia's child. The man looks at me swiftly and continues. 'I want to give you the chance to join me and become one of my soldiers.'

There is a ringing silence. Isabel, glaring at the man, the child of Lathenia, says angrily, 'You're an idiot. You know full well that there's no way any of us—in here or in the other room with the men—is going to convert to your side. Why bother asking?'

Lathenia's demon child smiles malevolently at Isabel, and none of us is prepared for when the thing suddenly turns and drives a spinning side kick into Isabel's stomach, sending her flying into the far wall.

'Brother!' Neriah cries out. 'I am your sister! Why must we be enemies? Why are you so…'

'Evil?' I finish for her, glaring at the abomination.

The child sends a blast of Immortal power from his fingers at Neriah, but she gathers the energy in her hands and sends it right back at the creature. Before the thing can retaliate, Neriah uses her power to make the flame on the torch grow and wrap around her brother in a blaze that hurt my eyes.

Suddenly I am up against the wall, a bright yellow electric-looking thing choking me. I follow the thread of yellow light and find the creature's hand jutting out of the fire, pointing at me and sending its energy out at me. Neriah sees this too and immediately releases her brother from the fire.

The creature smiles maliciously at its sister. 'I knew you would never let me hurt one of your friends… even if you have only known this one for three days!' The force pressing down on my throat increases until I think I feel my windpipe crush.

'_No!_' Neriah yells at the abomination. '_Let. Her. Go._' Neriah uses her own Immortal powers to give an authoritative tone to her voice, but it's not enough to hide the worried one beneath it.

I think I'm going to pass out, but then the creature releases me, letting me slide down the wall to the floor. Immediately Isabel is at my side, placing her hands near my throat.

Everything sounds fuzzy, like it is coming out of the 'radio' in Ethan's car. I hear the abomination say to Neriah, 'You and your friends—all of them—will be executed tomorrow morning. Only those who join me shall not be killed. And because I am so generous, I shall offer my invitation again.' The creature watches while Isabel heals me, waiting for her to finish. One she's done, he asks shortly, 'Any takers?'

No one takes this evil… villain… up on his offer. He smirks at us and leaves. As soon as the light from his torch has completely left the corridor, the large stone slab comes hurrying back into place with a loud _BAM_.

Isabel lets off a long line of descriptions—none of them very appropriate—about our departed visitor, not caring if he can hear her thoughts or not. Neriah interrupts her, the creature's silencing spell broken with his departure: 'He's going over to the boys.'


	29. Chapter Twentyeight: Ethan

**Chapter Twenty-eight: Ethan**

Matt, Dartemis, and Arkarian suddenly go still. Matt stands to face the far wall, the one that separates us from Renate, Isabel, and Neriah.

'I can't hear anything…' Matt mutters. 'I can't hear their thoughts!' He turns to Arkarian and Dartemis helplessly. 'Why can't I hear their thoughts!'

Neither Arkarian nor Dartemis has an answer for Matt, who is extremely worried that he can't hear Neriah's thoughts anymore.

'Don't worry,' Dartemis tells his son. 'If anything bad had happened to them, Neriah would have sent you a message.'

For the next ten minutes or so, everyone tries to comfort Matt. Even I send my thoughts out to him, emphasizing Dartemis's words. I mentally ask him what the last thoughts he'd gotten from them had been.

'They'd been wondering what was happening,' Matt said, frustrated. 'The stone door had opened and someone walked in, and then their thoughts just disappeared.'

Just then, our own stone door seemed to run away from its place, revealing a long corridor. Once the door has disappeared from behind a corner, torchlight can be seen on the walls of this corridor. A woman begins walking toward us, a lit torch held in her hand.

Matt sighs; he can hear Neriah's, Isabel's, and Renate's thoughts again. Although personally I would think it a bad sign to be hearing voices in my head… but that's just me.

The woman walks into the room and takes in everyone and everything, pausing to smirk at me lying on the ground with an expression of pain on my face. Then she addresses everyone in the room, looking at each of us in turn.

'I want to give you the chance to live,' she says coldly. 'I have taken the female form to make you more comfortable with my presence.' Then it hits me: this is Lathenia's child. The woman looks at me swiftly and continues. 'I want to give you the chance to join me and become one of my soldiers.'

The silence seems to ring. Then Dillon—not my first choice when it comes to addressing evil Immortals—steps forward and says callously, 'You're an idiot. You know full well that there's no way any of us—in here or in the other room with the men—is going to convert to your side. Why bother asking?'

The child of Lathenia smiles, somewhat amusedly, at us. 'I just had this exact same conversation with the women,' he tells us in a flat voice. 'Do I need to go through the motions with you, as well?' Then the woman hits Dillon with a spinning side kick, sending him flying against the far wall. 'Now,' Lathenia's child says, 'I know that this is where the conversation is going to differ from the one I just had; this is where my dear sister broke in begging for peace between us.'

'Then why can't there be peace between us?' Matt says, letting false bravery strengthen his voice.

The woman sighs, disappointedly. 'Then again, I could have been wrong,' he says malevolently as he sends a zap of Immortal power at Matt. Matt catches the surge of energy in his hands and manipulates it, turning the sizzling yellow sparks a bright orange, and sends it sizzling back at the woman. Then, before the woman can retaliate, Dartemis manipulates the fire on her torch so that it grows and wraps around its holder.

'You disappoint me,' Lathenia's child says. 'I was hoping that this interview would actually go differently from how the one with the women went…' The woman reaches a hand out of the fire and sends yellow power towards Arkarian, pinning him to the wall by the throat.

Dartemis doesn't relent. Arkarian takes the yellow bolt of energy in his hands and manipulates it, drawing it away from Lathenia's child. He gathers it all into his hands and throws it back to strike against its original caster.

Lathenia's child goes down and doesn't rise.

'Was that… different from… the girls' interview…?' I ask in as hard a voice as I can manage.

Dillon laughs lightly and asks, 'Do you think it's dead?'

'Wanna make sure?' Matt asks in a much harder voice than I could ever have used. He comes up to stand over the limp form of the child of Lathenia and Marduke, hands poised to summon the power it would take to kill an Immortal.

'Not now,' Arkarian gasps, trying to get his breath back from when the woman had held him by the throat. 'We need to find the women.'

Dad comes and picks me up, and I cry out in pain. 'Dad!' I murmur at him.

'I know, I know,' Dad says, smiling slightly. 'Not "cool" to have your dad carry you around, huh?' Dad hands me to Dillon, and I cry out again.

'It doesn't matter… who carries me… as long as someone… repositions my… leg!' Arkarian comes and does something to my leg that causes me to scream in pain. 'What the hell… did you do to it!' I demand.

'I snapped the bone back in place,' he tells me. 'Does anything else hurt worse than it had before?'

'Well why didn't you… snap it back… before!' I try to scream at him, but the edges of my vision are starting to go black. 'And no… nothing else hurts… more than usual…'

'Ethan?' Arkarian asks, his voice as fuzzy as a badly-tuned radio. 'Ethan!' And then Arkarian slaps me. He slapped me!

'Why the hell… did you slap me…?'

'You can't go to sleep!'

'I wasn't going… to sleep you… annoying bugger… I was… passing out!'

'_Then stop speaking so we can get out of here!_'

This gets everyone to shut up and start running through the long corridor. Although Dillon running is _really_ hurting me, I absolutely refuse to cry out again. There is no way I am letting Arkarian anywhere near my bones again!

'You okay?' Dillon asks, probably noticing my now purple face. I nod at him, not trusting my voice to keep from screaming out in pain.

We come to many intersections, but we always seem to take the path leading to the right, trying to get to the room on the other side of our cell; trying to get to the girls. At the fourth intersection we come to a stone door like the one that had kept us trapped inside our own cell.

Matt curses. 'They're in there!' he explains. 'But how do _we_ get in there?'

'There's probably a hidden switch or something,' Arkarian suggests. 'Start feeling around at the walls.' Dillon puts me down on the floor and begins helping to push in stones and pull on loose rocks, searching for the one that will open the door.

I look at the door. While I look at it, my mind starts ticking. My skills are animation, illusion, and instinct. Can I use either of them to open this door? I'm too weak to move anything that heavy, even with my skills enhanced. Instinct will do me absolutely no good here. And illusion… I have the ability to bring reality into an illusion. I look hard at the door and shut my eyes for a moment. _Feathers!_ I think. _Feathers!_

My thoughts draw the attentions of Arkarian, Matt, and Dartemis. Their diversions cause Dillon, Jimmy, and Dad to look over as well. When I'm sure that my illusion has worked, I open my eyes. I know that, while the outside of the door still looks like rock, the inside has now been turned to feathers thanks to the illusion I had created and then cemented into reality.

'Dillon…' Immediately Dillon comes to my side to hear me better, since my voice is nothing but a whisper. 'Hit… the… door…'

'Ethan, I tried that with the other door while you were passed out!' Dillon protests. 'It's not going to work!'

'_Hit… the… door… you… stupid… bumbling… son… of… a…_'

'Okay then,' Dillon stops me. 'I'm just going to stop you right there so that you don't hate yourself for cursing at me later.'

'_DILLON!_'

'I know! I know!' Dillon stands and turns to the door, making a fist. That's the last thing I see before I pass out cold.


	30. Chapter Twentynine: Renate

**Chapter Twenty-nine: Renate**

The stone blocking our only way out suddenly explodes, releasing millions of _feathers_. If the door was made of feathers this whole time, why didn't it cave in when Isabel, Neriah and I tried to break it down?

The feathers completely block my vision for the next few moments, but then I hear Arkarian's voice: 'Ethan!' I stand up quickly when I hear Ethan's name, and then Arkarian runs into the room, carrying an unconscious Ethan. He deposits Ethan's body at Isabel's feet, explaining that Ethan must have passed out after exerting himself to turn the stone door into feathers so Dillon could break through it.

I run over to Ethan's side, renewed tears running down my face and onto his robes. I hold his hand, willing him to wake up and sit up, to tell me that he's fine.

Isabel puts her hands on Ethan's chest and gasps. The room is suddenly noisy with people asking what's wrong, and I realize that the rest of the men have also entered the room and have formed a circle around me, Isabel, and Ethan.

'There's so much damage!' Isabel cries. 'The only time I've seen worse was with Arkarian, but even then you didn't have a concussion…' Isabel closes her eyes and begins healing Ethan, small tears running down her own face. Occasionally she mutters, 'Come on; faster!' or 'Please don't let this be too late!' The whole room seems to be holding its breath. Shaun comes to kneel next to his son and tries to cradle Ethan's head in his hands, but Isabel immediately stops him. 'Don't touch him!' she screeches. 'Do you know how much more I have to do before _anyone_ can touch him _anywhere!_' I covertly drop Ethan's hand, afraid that I might have done more damage. Isabel looks sympathetically back up at me, her eyes understanding. 'You can hold his hand, if you like,' she says softly. I shake my head, still worried that I might cause Ethan more pain.

'He's passed out,' Arkarian offers. 'He can't feel any pain right now.'

'Of course he can!' Isabel snaps at Arkarian. 'His nerves still work, so—.' Isabel stops short and looks swiftly at me before going back to work on Ethan. 'I mean, no, he can't feel any pain while he's passed out…'

Isabel appears to work on Ethan's chest first, her hands running up and down the front of his robes. Then she goes to work on his head injury, running her hands through his hair and stopping at one spot in particular for a few moments. After a minute, Ethan groans and tries to sit up. Isabel shoves him back down and yells at him, 'Lie down, idiot! I still have to heal your arms and legs!' While she continues healing Ethan, she reproaches him: 'You know, this never would have happened if you had listened to me and gotten under Dartemis, Matt and Neriah. But noooo, you had to be the hero. Stupid hero complex…' Isabel gets to his legs and grimaces. 'Who tried to snap his femur back in place?' she asked, ready to reprimand the culprit. When Arkarian guiltily raises his hand, Isabel softens her look and says simply, 'Remind me later to teach you how to do it properly.' Then she gets back to work. When she finishes, Ethan sits up and gives his head a shake.

I don't give him the opportunity to do anything else; I jump on him. I hug Ethan so hard I start to worry that Isabel might have to heal some more broken ribs, but then Ethan hugs me back just as hard and I forget all about it. I feel my tears wet the shoulders of his robes but I don't care; _Ethan is alive! Ethan is going to stay alive!_ I stop hugging Ethan only to kiss him.

'This is very romantic,' Dillon says uncomfortably, 'but could you guys please stop?'

Ethan pulls away and glares at Dillon. 'Dillon, you and I need to have a talk,' he says menacingly. 'The next time I'm on the ground dying and I use one of the last breaths I have to tell you to hit something, _you hit whatever it is I am telling you to hit! You do not stand there and say_ "Oh well, I'd _tried_ to do it before, while you were passed out, but it didn't work!" You don't even _say_ anything. _You hit whatever I told you to hit!_ Do you understand what I am telling you with my full, not-wheezing, not-on-the-edge-of-dying voice?'

Dillon looks down at his shoes, flexing a muscle in a depressed way, and Ethan kisses me again. Everyone applauds the display, although I would prefer it if they were looking away; this is an intimate moment!

The clapping dies down but one person keeps clapping. Everyone turns to face the doorway—Ethan and I stop kissing to turn, as well—and we find the male form of Lathenia's child clapping in the doorway.

The child sees me and Ethan finish our kiss and says, disappointed, 'Oh so _that's_ what you're clapping at… I was clapping at your ability to get past me…'

'We can do it again, if we have to,' Dillon says, this time flexing his muscle with gusto.

Ethan and I stand to join the now apprehensive group of friends. I search for any trace of metal in the room, only finding some from the daggers hidden in boots and other places on my friends' bodies. Ethan looks down and then at me when I use my skill to bring his dagger to my hand. He nods at me in understanding; none of my skills can be used defensively, especially in a room made entirely out of stone and that has a low ceiling.

'Someone seems to have decided to use a common weapon against me…' the child says, and suddenly a burst of yellow energy splits my group of friends down the middle and takes hold of me, pulling me towards the child of Lathenia. I scream and Ethan tries to hold on to me, but the abomination only increases the amount of power it is using to pull me towards it. Before I know it, Lathenia's child is holding me captive, Ethan's dagger pointing at my throat. 'Someone should have taught you how to close your mind… Your Trainer must have been a torture to have…'

'My Trainer taught me well,' I grumble, using my power to levitate out of the abomination's arms—and head-first into the ceiling. Laughing, the creature catches me.

'Case in point,' the creature whispers into my ear, still laughing. Ethan looks furious, yet helpless at the same time, as if he's already gone through a similar situation in his life and despises that he's in another one. 'And because I am so generous,' the creature addresses everyone else, 'I shall once again—.'

'Offer to let us join you,' Isabel says, rolling her eyes. 'When are you going to realize that none of us would ever—.'

'I'll join you,' Matt says, stepping forward.

'_Matt!_' everyone cries. Dartemis is the only one who doesn't show surprise, although his eyes turn to slits and his hands bunch into fists.

Arkarian leans over to Isabel and says lightly, his lips hardly moving, 'Is this what you foresaw?'

Isabel nods her head helplessly. 'Matt, you don't have to—.'

'It's not a matter of what I do or don't have to do, _half-sister_,' Matt says, turning his head to look at Isabel. 'If you were truly my sister, you would know that this has been long in coming. You would know that the Tribunal, trying to maintain peace, doesn't realize that it is human nature to fight. It is the way of the cosmos to battle out disputes, not to talk them out.'

'Matt!' Isabel says feebly. 'Why are you… how could you… _why?_'

Matt sends a burst of Immortal power into Isabel's stomach, propelling her across the room and into the far wall. 'If you were really my sister, you would know why.'

The creature drops me in a heap on the ground and ushers Matt through the corridor. As soon as they turn the corner, another giant stone rushes to fill the doorway.

While everyone comes to their senses, the only thought that runs through my head is: Where does this guy get so many giant rocks?


	31. Chapter Thirty: Renate

**Chapter Thirty: Renate**

I am dropped to the floor only to be immediately picked up again, this time by Ethan. He carries me away from the doorway, returning me to my feet only when we've reached the very back of the room—as far as we can get from the accursed child of Lathenia.

Isabel dissolves into tears, burying her face into Arkarian's shoulder. Arkarian wraps his arms supportively around his wife.

I go to comfort a crying Neriah. I put my hand tentatively on her arm but Neriah pulls me into a hug instead.

'I'm sorry!' I whisper.

'He's going to get himself killed!' Neriah cries, holding on to me tightly.

I try to pull away, stunned by Neriah's words, but Neriah won't let go. 'Aren't you angry?' I ask, amazed.

Now Neriah pulls away. 'Why would I be?' she asks in answer, confusing us both.

'He just abandoned us to join Lathenia's child!' I remind her.

But Neriah just stares at me as if I am a mad woman. 'What are you talking about?'

'I'm talking about what just happened now when Matt left us to work with an evil monster!'

A hand comes down on my shoulder: Dartemis's. 'Matthew did not betray us,' he tells me. Now Arkarian is standing with us, his arm around Isabel's waist. 'He left so he could help us.'

'Matt is broadcasting his thoughts to us,' Arkarian explains. 'Lathenia's child is, at this moment, showing Matt around the underworld palace. Matt is painting a picture of the palace for us; he's looking for a way to get to the rift over Marduke's gardens.'

For the next couple of hours or so, Arkarian, Dartemis, Matt, and Neriah meditate to strengthen their connection with Matt. They lose contact occasionally, so it is assumed that the child has taken Matt to the other side of the palace.

Everyone else is seated in a semi-circle, facing the far wall. We're all trying to hide our thoughts so that the Immortal child doesn't know what we are plotting.

'The child doesn't know how we got in here,' Ethan thinks out loud. 'I think we could get out of here the same way I got us guys in here.'

'Good idea,' Dillon said hurriedly. 'And this time, I promise I won't hesitate when you tell me to punch it!'

'You won't hesitate then,' Ethan added threateningly, 'and you won't hesitate _ever_.' Everyone laughs at this before going back to planning.

'And then we'll go get Matt,' Shaun says, going through the whole plan. 'Once we have him, us mortals will split from the Immortals. While we go tackle with the ordinary guards, Matt, Neriah, and Dartemis will go deal with the child itself.'

'What weapons do we have to fight with?' I ask.

There is a short pause before Ethan answers, looking pained. 'I had my bow and arrow set,' Ethan remembered, 'but they must have been taken from me when we were brought here. Everyone needs to watch out in case the child gave the bow and arrow to one of its guards; those things kill whatever they hit.'

'Don't forget we still have our own skills to use as weapons,' Isabel adds. 'If you get hurt, come to me _immediately_, or at least try and get my attention so I can heal you.'

'"You mortals" won't be going anywhere alone,' Dartemis says softly, coming to stand behind our congregation. 'I will be coming with you to battle with the guards.'

'No!' everyone cries out.

'We need you to go with Matt and Neriah,' Jimmy explains quickly. 'An Immortal can only be killed by another Immortal, so we're going to need all three of you to make our chances of success that much greater!'

Dartemis smiles and puts a hand on Jimmy's shoulder, smiling down at the man who has protected his son and soul-mate for the past two decades. 'Consider this, Protector: there is only one child, but there are bound to be at least a hundred guards. I am not a mere Immortal; I am also a magician. To have me with you against all those soldiers would increase your chances of victory by an infinite amount.'

'I'm so happy to know that there is no way we are going to survive this without you helping us!' Ethan said jokingly.

'You're very welcome.' Apparently Dartemis has a difficult time recognizing humor. 'I came over here to find out if you had sorted out your plan of attack yet; Matt's tour of the palace is over. Neriah's just saying a few parting words of luck, and then we'll be ready to proceed.'


	32. Chapter Thirtyone: Ethan

**Chapter Thirty-one: Ethan**

_Feathers… feathers…_ I open my eyes and step aside, gesturing for Dillon to take my place in front of the stone door. As soon as he's positioned correctly, Dillon strikes at the giant rock; his punch sends another blinding wave of feathers through the room.

Arkarian, after warning me _again_ of how important it is that I at least scramble my thoughts—although I don't think that's very fair, considering how good I'd gotten at blocking my thoughts from Rochelle—follows Dartemis and Neriah into the corridor. Renate and I go next; I refuse to let her leave my side without any good defensive powers, especially if she refuses to fight in her robes. Behind us come Isabel and Dillon, followed by Jimmy and Dad. Although it had never been a part of the original plan, we're moving in a tightly-packed group.

Dartemis, Neriah, and Arkarian guide us through various corridors with confidence, explaining softly that Matt had noticed these corridors and asked about them; they're short-cuts through the palace. Apparently it would take us hours to reach Matt if we go the same way he'd been taken, but this way will lead us directly to his appointed chambers within minutes.

I guess Lathenia's child forgot to mention the huge chamber full of guards, but somehow that doesn't surprise me.

Before she can go on the attack, I yank on Neriah's arm and hiss at her to run to Matt as soon as she has an opportunity, but I don't get a chance to tell her to bring someone with her before the guards advance on us, and Neriah uses her wings to disappear.

I look back to watch the soldiers running towards us, looking for a weakness to exploit. It doesn't take long; I don't even have to think about it to get this illusion to become real.

Dozens of guards turn tail and run, their dark red uniforms disappearing down various corridors as they try to out-run the twenty Spanish bulls I have filled the room with.

'Come on, Ethan!' Dillon complains. 'That was no fun! You got me all worked up for nothing!'

Dillon retracts this statement when a second wave of soldiers comes running in. 'Does this look like enough fun to satisfy you, Dillon?' I ask him sarcastically. I will my dagger from my boot to my hand—but it doesn't come; Lathenia's child took my dagger with it when it led Matt away. I look enviously at everyone else pulling their own weapons out of boots, jackets, or hidden pockets. Isabel even pulls the chopsticks out of her bun, causing her blonde hair to fall down onto her shoulders—and revealing two small, thin knives. Lucky girls have all the hiding places…

Shaking my head, I look up ahead at the new wave of soldiers and see something I recognize: my bow and arrow set! I shout a warning to everyone to watch out for the woman at the front, and then take a moment to wonder how come it's always the girls who are the dangerous ones. I shake my head and concentrate, knowing that this time I won't be able to get away with another illusion.

I pick my target: the woman with my bow and arrows. I want to get those back before she uses them to kill someone I care about. I glance sideways at Renate only to see that someone has passed her a dagger, and she's wielding it like a sword. I almost laugh at her but I turn my attention back to the army in front of us.

Right when I do, the whole group starts running for the army. I guess someone—probably Arkarian or Dartemis—has decided that we're not going to wait for them to charge us first. I run along with my friends, aiming for the woman with my bow and arrow set.

She doesn't expect someone to actually go for her. If she did, I'm sure she would have actually _used_ the bow and arrow she was holding. But as it is, I _did_ aim for her, my foot _did_ collide with her stomach, and she _did_ go flying into the two soldiers behind her.

Unfortunately for me, she did _not_ let go of the bow and arrows. How could she have not let go of the bow and arrows? I kicked her in the _stomach!_ How could she still be holding on to those things? For one thing: they're _my_ things! And for another thing: _I kicked her in the freaking stomach!_

I get up for another attack, searching for anything to protect me in case the woman actually uses the bow and arrow against me. When she eventually does pull the string back with a notched arrow, it turns out I don't have to find something to protect me; she doesn't have animation skills. Therefore, the arrows won't work the same way they will for me. She actually has to be able to aim, something she apparently has trouble with. When she eventually gets her hand to stop shaking with the effort of drawing the string back, I'm ready for the attack. As soon as the arrow is released, I focus all of my concentration on it.

Because I hadn't been the one to shoot the arrow off, it's a bit harder than I'm ready for. It's a moving object that's aimed directly at my chest. But at the last minute I am able to make the arrow swerve off to the right and up, so that it skims along the ceiling. The woman notches another one of my arrows into my bow and tries to aim, but I don't give her a chance to take another shot at me; I send the already flying arrow into the back of her head.

As soon as the woman hits the ground, I bend over and grab my bow and arrow set. I stand up straight again only to ram my head into someone's fist. _This is my day,_ I think to myself. _First, I almost die, and now I'm being bombarded by the new Order of Chaos!_

I see Isabel across the room, healing Arkarian from about seven feet away from him. Closing my eyes, I envision the spot directly next to her and find myself exactly there when I open my eyes.

Isabel finishes healing Arkarian and, misunderstanding why I'm here, yells, 'What hurts?'

'Nothing!' I yell back. 'Nothing hurts, but—.'

'If nothing hurts then _get back in there!_' Isabel screeches at me before her attention is diverted by a fallen Jimmy. I shake my head. Half of me is prepared to ask Arkarian to plant the image in my mind anyway, so I can go and help Neriah and Matt; the other half is telling me that my friends need me here.

Matt and Neriah are Immortals.

But they're fighting another Immortal, which means they could get killed. They might need my help too…

They're two Immortals doing battle against one. They can handle it.

That one Immortal is Lathenia's child. Who knows what it's capable of?

Who cares what it's capable of? What could you do to harm it anyway?

Nothing, but—

_Stop talking to yourself and get back to fighting!_

I listen to my inner self and draw an arrow from my quiver, notch it, and fire at the person Arkarian is having trouble with. After a quick salute to Arkarian to let him know I've got his back, I fire another arrow at one of the four people Dad is taking on. He's actually doing pretty well, having stolen a sword to fight with from one of the soldiers; Dad's awesome with swords. I shoot down the other three men before I notice the person coming up behind Isabel.

I go to shoot them but then I hesitate. '_Chloe?_'

The girl about to stab my best friend turns quickly to face me, a stunned expression on her face. I flirted with this girl a bit in Year 11! If Angel Falls wasn't directly over the ancient city of Veridian, a kind of magnet for members of the Guard, I would be very surprised to see her here. But since all of the people close to me are turning out to be members of the Guard, or members of the Order, or members of the Order pretending to be members of the Guard, it's relatively easy for me to believe that Chloe is a soldier for the Order of Chaos, about to stab one of my best friends to death.

Until I shoot her with an arrow instead.

I turn back to the rest of the fighting to see Dillon almost completely buried by soldiers. I fire off a few arrows, hitting every target with 100 accuracy, until Dillon is able to use his super-strength to shove the rest of the soldiers off of him and begin walking towards Isabel, who has already started to heal what looks like a broken arm and a heavily slashed chest. After shooting down the growing swarm of soldiers surrounding Renate and her single dagger—it figures that they would go after the obviously weaker person—I rescue Arkarian from a group of soldiers who had been trying to sneak up behind him—they had to be pretty dense to try to sneak up on a truthseer—and then shot at the soldiers who were keeping Jimmy occupied.

The next time I turn around, someone is holding Isabel to his chest, a set of bronze knuckles pressed tightly against her throat. Every inch of skin appears to be heavily scarred, but I would recognize that body odor anywhere: Mr Carter.

_Arkarian!_ I call out to my best and longest friend, noticing that Carter is holding Isabel's hands locked behind her back. _You need to come here now!_

'Nice to see you, Croc-face,' I say in a hard voice, notching another arrow and aiming it directly at Carter's face. 'It's nice to know you managed to survive those demons; now I get to punish you for betraying us myself!'

'I still have my own weapons, Ethan,' Carter hisses at me from behind Isabel, who looks slightly bored. 'Or are you still so ignorant that you have forgotten my own special weapon?'

Arkarian comes to stand next to me. His eyes widen when he sees who has gotten a hold of his wife. 'We all have our talents, Marcus,' he says off-handedly, eyes locked on Isabel.

'Maybe I should remind you,' I shout at Carter, 'that I never miss my target with this bow and arrow. And right now I'm aiming at your face.'

Carter presses his bronze knuckles deeper into Isabel's neck, drawing a fair amount of blood. 'Then why don't you shoot me?' he baits. 'Why don't you shoot me and rescue your friend?'

'Because he's too smart to do that.' Isabel suddenly bends forward with enough strength to propel Carter right over her. When Isabel straightens again, Carter is on his back, at her feet, and at her mercy. Isabel shoves her foot—which, I just notices, is wielding a spiky, high-heeled shoe; Isabel is full of hidden weapons today—into Carter's stomach. I lower my bow, confident that Isabel can take this monster on by herself. 'And you would like to say _what_ before you die?' Isabel asks in an overly innocent voice.

Carter regains his breath and spits at Isabel's shoe, but the liquid only lands on his chin. Isabel digs the spiked heel of her shoe deeper into Carter's stomach. 'I just want to thank you for finally giving these shoes a purpose other than tripping me down the stairs,' she tells Carter amiably.


	33. Chapter Thirtytwo: Renate

**Chapter Thirty-two: Renate**

'_No!_' I scream, finally managing to make my way over to where Isabel is about to shove the heel of her shoe into a man's stomach. 'It's one thing to kill someone in self-defense,' I say, breathless, 'but it's something completely different to kill him when he's lying on his back, unarmed.' The room seems quieter, and I realize that most of the Order's soldiers are dead or in the process of dying. 'Don't hurt him when he's helpless.'

'Renate,' Isabel says angrily, not taking her eyes—or her shoe—off of the man in front of her. 'This man is Marcus Carter. He is the one in the Prophecy who was destined to betray us all. "Beware, nine shall see a traitor come and go," isn't that how it goes, Carter? "Suspicion will cause disharmony." You are the traitor; you planted the suspicion that tore us apart; you tricked us all.'

The man called Carter looks up at Isabel and gives her an evil grin. 'And who is to blame for that?' he asks. 'Whose fault is it that you fell for my act?'

'Our's,' Ethan answers. 'The fault is all our's. Mine especially, because I always knew that you would betray us; that was a part of my third skill. But we trusted you.'

'I defended you,' Arkarian adds. 'Every time Ethan approached me about his instincts and bad feelings toward you, I would defend you.'

'And how does killing him avenge everything he's ever done to you?' I ask, bringing everyone's attention back to me. Now the only soldier alive is the man on the floor, Carter, and all of my friends—except for Matt and Neriah, who must have disappeared to find her husband—are now standing around us, watching to see what we will do to the traitor. 'Killing him won't avenge anything.'

'He deserves to die!' Dillon interjects, joining the conversation. Definite nods meet his argument, showing everyone else's support for the idea. 'After everything he's done to us, he deserves to die!'

'Why?' I ask. 'Why do his crimes justify the one you are about to commit?' Suddenly everyone goes quiet. I wonder how Carter feels, listening to everyone decide his fate. Out of everyone here, I am the only one who feels that it is not right for this man to die. 'We are supposed to be the good guys, the people who do only what is necessary to preserve the past, to protect the present and the future. And now you're just going to kill this man when he's on the floor and unarmed?'

'He's got his brass knuckles,' Dillon said, uncomfortable with being proven wrong.

Suddenly Carter sits up and uses those brass knuckles to punch Isabel's leg, a loud _crack!_ letting us know that a bone has been broken. Carter leaps to his feet and takes off down a corridor, but Ethan uses one of his golden arrows to shoot him down. Carter falls with the golden shaft still quivering between his shoulder blades.

Isabel, cursing, begins to work on healing her leg. Shaun, Jimmy, and Dillon line up next to her, arguing over whose injuries hurt the most and whose need attention the soonest. Isabel yells at them to shut up and continues working on massaging her leg, apparently helping to move the bone back into place.

'So now my shoes are back to being just hindrances,' Isabel complains when she's done. 'Thanks a lot, Renate. I didn't even get to use them as a weapon!' Arkarian shows Isabel his bloody arm, completely disregarding the line-up and effectively diverting Isabel's attention. Dillon, Shaun, and Jimmy immediately start complaining until Isabel snaps at them to be quiet while she works, assuring them that she'll heal each of them once she finishes with her husband. She puts an extra emphasis on the word 'husband.'

Dartemis appears unharmed, but that is probably because his immortality has already healed any wounds he has taken. He steps forward to address me, towering almost a full six inches taller than me; I am a very short person, which is probably one of the reasons a lot of those soldiers were singling me out to fight with.

'I would just like to say,' Dartemis says gravely, 'that I think you had the right idea about how to handle Marcus. The rest of us are too close to the situation; it took someone with a clear perspective to remind us of fairness. Of course, Marcus met his fate in the end,' here Dartemis gives a soft, sad smile. 'But I admire your willingness to stand up for him against everyone else. I wanted to know… what would you have had us do with him, if he had not been killed?'

I look at him for a moment, considering the options. 'Probably contain him. Find out what it is he fears or hates the most, and then exploit it. Better to keep him alive and unhappy then to end his misery, I think.'

Dartemis smiles at me and comments, 'Spoken like a true queen of your time period.' Then he bows to me, something no one has done since I arrived here. I hurry to raise him before anyone sees, but Ethan comes up behind me and comments on my having made the leader of the Tribunal bow to a mortal monarch.

'I didn't ask him to!' I reply hastily.

'I know,' Ethan says, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer. 'I was just teasing you.'

I scowl at him, pulling myself out of his arms. 'Then could you please tell me when you're teasing me?'

Ethan laughs and says amiably, 'But then where would the fun be, if you knew I was teasing you? And where did that Renate who pounced on me go? No PDA's unless the person's recently had a near-death experience, huh?'

'"PDA?"'

'Public Display of Affection,' Ethan explains. 'It means—.'

'I know what "public display of affection" means!'

'Are we going to find Matt and Neriah or what?' Isabel asks, her hands on her hips. 'I really would like to find my brother and help him defeat the last remaining threat to the world.'

'I thought he didn't like you,' I comment softly. 'Didn't he say—?'

'I know what he said!' Isabel cries irritably. 'Don't remind me; there's been enough stress for one day and we've only got more coming later. Now _when are we going to find my brother?_'

'And Neriah,' I add softly.

'Right now,' Dartemis says firmly. 'Matthew's chamber would be down this corridor.' Dartemis points to a corridor and we all follow him, once again forming a tight group. Dartemis is at the head of our traveling party, followed shortly by Isabel and Arkarian. Shaun and Jimmy follow them. Dillon hangs back with me and Ethan, scared out of his wits at Isabel's temperament.

'This is only how she handles extreme stress,' Ethan assures both me and Dillon. 'You should have seen her when Arkarian was kidnapped a few years ago… she was obsessed with finding him and wouldn't let _anyone_ get in her way, including Lorian.' Dillon and I flinch at this memory, remembering the numerous Immortal wraths that both of us have witnessed. Well, I assume Dillon must have witnessed some, but I don't really know him as well as I know some of the other members of our little group here. Ethan continues talking: 'Lorian had even commanded Isabel not to go trying to rescue Arkarian, but she defied him and went behind his back, dragging me along for the ride. Of course, Matt jumped on voluntarily even though we ordered him to stay behind; he's obviously too important to risk dying, and he was even more important then when we hadn't beaten Lathenia yet.'

'Are you saying you're sorry for not coming to rescue Arkarian?' Isabel calls back to us. 'Do I need to tell you again that, without your help, I would never have been able to reach Arkarian and he would have died?'

'And do I need to tell you again that if you hadn't gotten the idea to defy Lorian and every other member of the Tribunal, then neither of us would have gone and Arkarian would have died?'

'And do I need to tell you that I am just happy to be alive in the first place?' Arkarian says firmly, ending the debate. From the way things were going, it sounded like an old argument that has been repeated numerous times. 'I'm just as happy that Matt wasn't killed on that little trip. He was important then, yes, but look at everything he's accomplished since then: he's rebuilt the Citadel, fashioned graves for Lorian and Lathenia and every other soldier—from both sides—who died in that final battle, rounded up many of the remaining members of the Order, and restored harmony to the Tribunal. He's done a lot in six years.'

Just then Dartemis turns to enter a room and we all follow him, finding the room to contain an Immortal war.

Lathenia's child and Neriah are locked in battle, streaks of Immortal power wrapped around each of them while they try desperately to weaken the other. Neriah is throwing lightening and fire at the Immortal child, who is retaliating with jets of ice and water. The two seem so absorbed in the heat of the battle, but that doesn't seem right somehow…

And then I realize what is wrong with this picture: Matt isn't in it. Matt is not fighting the Immortal child alongside his wife. Instead, Matt is behind Neriah—lying unconscious on the ground.


	34. Chapter Thirtythree: Ethan

**Chapter Thirty-three: Ethan**

Isabel immediately rushes to help her brother, but goes down when the child of Lathenia sends a bright burst of Immortal power at her. Isabel falls unconscious, or at least I hope she's unconscious. Dartemis and Arkarian take off together, Dartemis headed for his son and Arkarian for his wife.

I pull Renate into a corner and stand in front of her, an arrow notched in my bow in case I have to protect her. But there is nothing I can do here; this is an Immortal battle, and the only way an Immortal can die is if they are killed by another Immortal. The only Immortals we have are Matt, who in unconscious—hopefully—Dartemis, who is working on healing Isabel and recovering Matt at the same time, and Neriah.

I watch the battle, ready to help Neriah if she needs me to. She's crying, pleading with the child to stop while she defends herself; no attacks are coming from her end of the room.

'Brother!' Neriah cries, pain twisting her face. 'We are family! We share the same father! Why must we fight like this?'

'It's called sibling rivalry, sister!' Lathenia's child yells back at Neriah, still strong even though Neriah is weakening with the effort of self-protection. 'I was born to destroy you! I was born to dethrone the Tribunal and defeat the Guard!'

The child stopped attacking Neriah to strike out at the other members of the Guard, who had taken defensive positions against the wall. Several of them, including Dillon, Dad, Jimmy, and Arkarian go down. I take a hit aimed at me and then throw myself in the way of the shot of power intended for Renate. Pain in my chest brings me to my knees but I refuse to pass out.

'You have to attack back, Neriah!' Dartemis urges, having simply absorbed the Immortal power without harm to him. Dartemis's voice sounds like a badly-tuned radio, but I still refuse to let my body shut down.

Renate comes and kneels next to me, wrapping her arms around me protectively.

'We have to get to Dartemis,' I whisper through gritted teeth. This is the second time today that my body has wanted to pass out from pain! 'We have to help him revive Isabel, so she can heal everyone!'

Renate nods and helps me cross the room without attracting the attention of Lathenia's child. She manages to carry all of the weight I need to put on her; my left side has gone numb, like it's all asleep. I don't look forward to the sensation I'll get when that whole side wakes up.

'What can we do to help?' I ask, gripping my bow in my right hand.

Dartemis gives me an analytical look, his eyes running over my newly battered body. 'You can rest,' he says, pointing to a spot between Arkarian's unconscious head and Isabel's limp hand.

I look at all of the unconscious bodies of my friends and father. 'Are they all alright?' I ask, my chest constricting with fear. 'Is everyone still… alive?'

Renate gives a sob but Dartemis looks at me sternly, still pointing at the spot my Arkarian's head. 'They're all fine, but you won't be if you don't sit down and rest!'

I shake my head; it's hard to believe that everyone you care for is fine when they're all lying unconscious on the ground. But there's nothing I can do to help them; if I move then Lathenia's child will notice me and send another shock of energy towards me, probably succeeding in knocking me out this time. I refuse to let that happen. I will not leave Renate here helpless! I will not let my friends and family lie around me while I rest! 'No!' I hiss at Dartemis, nearly screaming the word in anger.

Dartemis gives me a sorrowful look. 'Ethan, you have to sit down and rest; you're about to pass out. And with all of the stress that's been going on today, you haven't exactly been doing a very good job at diverting your thoughts, so you're not doing Neriah much help there, either.'

'I am not going to just sit down and let my friend fight for me!'

'What could you do anyway? Sit down and rest!'

'_No!_'

Dartemis looks at me, raising a hand as if it is the last thing he wants to do. 'You leave me no choice, Ethan,' he says, bringing his hand closer to my face. 'You need to sleep.'

Dartemis's hand touches my forehead before I can bring an arm up to block him, and my eyelids instantly begin to droop. Images that could only be dreams flash before my eyes, and the last conscious thought that I have before Dartemis finally succeeds in lulling me to sleep is:

_Stupid Immortals…_


	35. Chapter Thirtyfour: Renate

_Hey, I'm sorry I haven't updated this story in a while, but do you have any idea how difficult it is to think of how someone would react if their soul-mate was conked out by someone they thought was a friend, especially when you have never dated? It's difficult! I had to go around asking my friends how they would react, but none of them are quite as innocent as Renate is, so I had to come up with her reaction all by myself. I think it's a bit out-of-character for her, but I hope you like it anywayz!_

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**Chapter Thirty-four: Renate**

Before I realize what I'm doing, I punch Dartemis in the chin. "What did you do to him?" I gasp, bending over Ethan's collapsed form while massaging sore knuckles. The rise and fall of Ethan's chest assures me that he is still alive, but I still want to know what and why Dartemis did to Ethan.

Dartemis, looking shocked at my pointless aggression—it is nearly impossible to causing lasting damage to an Immortal—rubs the spot where I stuck his jaw. "I put him to sleep," he tells me quietly, keeping his eyes on the ongoing battle between Neriah and her half-sibling. "If you'll help me to revive Isabel, we can wake Ethan up after he's been healed." Dartemis kneels at Isabel's body, placing her head gently in his lap with his hands on either side of her head. "Chafe some of her limbs so none of the muscles cramp when she wakes up."

I hurriedly begin massaging Isabel's left calf, watching Neriah continue to defend herself against Lathenia's child. Neriah needs to attack! Everything she's doing is done in defense, whereas the abomination has become unbearably smug in its uninterrupted and unreturned attacks.

_Unbearably smug…_

I drop Isabel's calf, suddenly aware of what Neriah is doing: she is only defending herself, making herself look weak by pleading and begging for peace. She's making the creature overconfident, causing its attacks to come with less force and accuracy. The creature doesn't think Neriah will attack it.

But when the time comes, will Neriah be able to kill her own sibling? Will Dartemis or Matt, if he ever wakes up, have to kill the child instead?

Isabel suddenly sits up, fully awake. She cries out as muscles cramp; I had forgotten to continue massaging while I was watching the battle. Dartemis steps away from Isabel, his eyes locked on the fight in the center of the room.

Neriah is suddenly flung into the wall, spinning as she goes. When her back hits the stone wall, she goes sliding down to the floor. Looking dazed yet frightened, Neriah gazes up at Lathenia's child; the creature has a hand held out towards its sister, in a pose to deliver the final, fatal blow.

"Please…" Neriah whimpers, looking out over the unconscious bodies spread throughout the room. Her eyes linger on Matt's body for a moment, but then they return to rest on those of her half-sibling. "My friends…"

"Don't worry about them," the child assures coldly. "I'll make sure they don't suffer much when I kill them. Call it a family favor to my dear sister." Tears fall down Neriah's face while power builds in the child's outstretched hand, yellow lightning flickering from the fingertips.

"My friends…" Neriah whispers again. "My _family!_"

Many things happen at once. The seemingly unconscious forms of Matt and Arkarian roll into a kneeling position. Their hands, along with Dartemis's and Neriah's, twist until their powers—Arkarian's white, Matt's red, Dartemis's green, and Neriah's blue—shoot from their fingers to slam all at once into Lathenia's child.

This child glows shimmering silver. It opens its mouth to cry out in anguish and pain. Yellow sparks still fly from its fingers, but they are growing weaker while Neriah, Matt, Dartemis, and Arkarian—each one, I notice, strategically placed in a different corner of the room—keep their powerful, painful hold on the struggling Immortal. It's only when the yellow sparks completely disappear that all four of my friends release the evil one, letting him drop to the floor on all fours.

Neriah extends one hand out to her right, where Ethan is still lying. She wills one of his poison arrows to her hand. She walks slowly up to the male form of her sibling, holding the arrow loosely at her side.

"Don't worry," she says heavily, standing over her half-sibling. "I'll make sure you don't suffer much."

The child grumbles and tries to lunge for Neriah's legs, but Neriah shoves the poison arrow into the creature's lovely face. At the same time, another arrow buries itself in the child's back; Matt bends to give the newly awakened Ethan back his bow, thanking him.

I run to Ethan, kneeling by his side all while Isabel heals him. As soon as Isabel finishes and walks away—muttering about her having to save Ethan every time his hero complex takes control—I envelope Ethan into a hug, happy that everyone has survived.

When we part, I go to poke Arkarian in the chest. "You're not an Immortal!" I point out sharply. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, but where did you get Immortal powers?"

Arkarian smiles. "Your highness, you knew me when I was only 45. I was Lorian's Apprentice for 200 years. In that time, my father taught me how to manipulate my natural skills to create Immortal power." He holds out his hands, revealing numerous burns. I quickly avert my eyes from such ugliness. "But it doesn't come without a price."

"Aw, poor baby!" Isabel says sarcastically, smiling at her husband as she comes to take his hands. They hold hands for a moment, and when Isabel pulls her hands out of his to hug Arkarian fiercely there are no more burns on his hands.

The room seems to charge with electricity as everyone realizes: we have survived. We fought against the child of Lathenia herself—the Goddess of Chaos—and came out of it alive. We all react to this revelation in different ways: Shaun can't seem to keep still; Dillon keeps pounding chunks of wall out with his fists; Dartemis begins to float a few inches above the ground; Arkarian and Isabel are kissing each other passionately; Jimmy is actually twirling around in the middle of the room and singing a Spanish song (repeating the words, "_Quiero vivir, quiero gritar, quiero sentir, el universo sobre mi!_"); Matt is holding a happily sobbing Neriah, kissing the top of her head softly while she presses herself further into his embrace; I just look at the dead body of Lathenia's only child, until someone twirls me by the waist into his embrace—Ethan. I smile into his face, tilting my head up when he leans in to kiss me.

I am so happy to be alive…

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_Author's Note: This is NOT the end of the story! There are more chapters to come. Just because Lathenia's child is dead doesn't mean there still isn't more for me to write about. Is Ethan going to be able to go back to 1400 with Renate, or will he have to stay in the present with his friends? Will the Tribunal even let him go to stay permanently in the past, with the last of the Order to round up? Will LAURA let Ethan go live in the past? Will Renate let Ethan risk his entire future to be with her? There are many questions left to answer, and I am only to happy to answer them! This story is not over!_

_If there are any questions about the story so far, please please please please PLEASE review. In fact, please review whether or not you have questions. I like reviews! _

_For anyone who's wondering: Lathenia's child never had a name. It's not because I was too lazy to look up name meanings to fit its personality; it's because when I started this fic we were talking about gothic lit in my honors lit class, and we discussed what made things scary. One of the very good points that a student made was that people are scared of the unknown. That is why the child has no name; because it makes it scarier to be afraid of something you can't even name (sort of like Voldemort in Harry Potter), and also because it makes the fact that someone is going to have to actually KILL the child less... gruesome, I guess. I know if I had written something along the lines of "And then Neriah lunged, plunging the poisoned arrow deep into Darby's face" then I would probably re-write how I did it so many times just because it seems too cold for Neriah to be killing SOMEONE rather than a person that is constantly referred to as a creature, or abomination, or Lathenia's child. _

_Oh yeah: Renate is French for "reborn". I chose this name because of the fact that she is the mother of the long line of Rochelles, including Ethan's Rochelle in the actual trilogy. Ethan is my favorite character, so I couldn't bear it when Rochelle was murdered in the LAST TEN PAGES OF THE LAST BOOK! So I decided to give him a new soul-mate, taking humongous(sp?) artistic liberties. For example: I take advantage of the fact that the books never mention that Ethan and Rochelle are soul-mates. They simply say that Ethan feels a connection to Rochelle, and vice versa. I took this and made it into a family connection; Ethan was feeling grandfatherly affection of some sort. Another liberty: Ethan and Rochelle do kiss in the books, yes, but I noticed that there was no description as to how the kisses were. I turned what would probably be passionate kisses and made them kisses on the cheek, or short pecks that would be given between family members. So if you have noticed any discrepencies(sp?) between my story and the actual Guardians of Time trilogy, they are there on purpose, because Marianne Curley did not specify something and I took advantage of that. _

_Again: THIS IS NOT THE END! THERE IS MORE TO COME!_


	36. Chapter Thirtyfive: Ethan

**Chapter Thirty-five: Ethan**

'Why the hell not?' I demand, glaring from Matt—no; he's _Lord Matthew of the Mortal Realm_ when he's with the other members of the Tribunal—to Neriah—_Lady Neriah of the Mortal Realm_—to Dartemis—_Dartemis, God of the Realms of Contentment_—to Lord Penbarin of the House of Samartyne, to Lady Arabella of the House of Sky and Water, to Lady Devine of the House of Divinity, to Lord Meridian of the House of Kavanah, to Queen Brystianne of the House of Averil, to Sir Syford of the House of Syford, to Lady Elenna of the House of Isle, to Lord Alexandon of the House of Criers, and finally to King Richard of Veridian. 'What's the point of my staying in this time period when my future—my soul-mate!—is in the past?'

I can see many of the Tribunal members sigh, knowing that I will not give up on this until I have a valid reason for their not allowing me to go live with Renate in her time period; only in 1400 can we live together without causing a disruption to the course of history. Renate and I, after many debates, agree that we can't go back to living without each other. She understands that the only way for us to be together is for me to give up my future in my own time period, but I can tell by the way she's standing uncomfortably at my side that she is still saddened by the idea of my giving up so much to be with her.

Finally, Lord Matthew of the Mortal Realm decides to give me an answer. I allow myself a moment to appreciate the irony of the situation (my best mate is telling me why I can't live with my soul-mate, while his new wife sits happily at his side!) before I actually pay attention to his patiently stated words (he's always diplomatic when he's Lord Matthew of the Mortal Realm, versus the slightly annoying Matt that he becomes outside these chambers): 'Ethan, you have to understand. I'm not entirely sure you've thought this whole thing through.'

'No, I really think I have,' I assure him. 'I am giving up my future in this time period to take up my destined one in the past. Doing so also means that I would have to transport my physical body through the very fabric of time itself, doing who knows what kind of harm to it. And another risk would be that some of the technologies that allowed us to save King Richard when I rescued him from the godforsaken dungeon he would otherwise have died in had not been in use in the year 1400, so the probability of my actually surviving the trip back in time alone would be slim to none. I think I've thought of pretty much everything.'

Lord Matthew of the Mortal Realm looks stunned for a moment before commenting, 'There's more to it then that, Ethan. You're talking about what is going to happen after you go back in time. I'm talking about right now. Right now there are dozens of Order members still needed to be rounded up and put on trial. Right now you have a career that requires that you give at least two weeks notice before you retire. Right now you have friends outside the Guard and the Order whom you would have to give a reason for your sudden departure. And before you do anything,' a smile plays on the very edges of Lord Matthew's mouth, 'you need to tell your mother you're leaving, and for whom. As I recall, you never did tell her your current social situation with Renate.'

I see Renate blush. I really wish she wouldn't; we only just got back from the underworld yesterday, and everyone knows how we feel about each other. She is still sleeping alone in my bed—not that I would change that or anything; I think sex should wait until after marriage—and all we have ever done is kiss. There's nothing to really blush about, but the way Renate keeps doing it, people might start to think that there _is_ something to blush about!

'If I tell my mother,' I offer lightly, taking Renate's hand in mine, 'will you let me and Renate go back to her time period?'

Dartemis, God of the Realms of Contentment, raises his eyebrows and says in an amused voice, 'Princess Mariposa can return to her time period whenever she wishes. It's only a matter of sending her back to Atlantis, at the exact moment that she left, so that she can call Arkarian's name for him to pull her back to her original time. You, Ethan, are required here in Angel Falls of 2005 to help gather what remains of the Order. Being Named, it is written in the Prophecy that you are to help end the reign of the Order entirely. Although the Prophecy originally intended for this to occur after the final battle with Lathenia, technically it would still apply since our recent battle has taken place with Lathenia's heir.'

I glare angrily at the so-called 'god'. I know that, unlike his 'brother', Dartemis would never throw an Immortal rage if I went behind his back and left for 1400 anyway. However, Lord Matthew would most definitely travel back in time to punish me all during his eternal life for defying him. If Lord Matthew was still Matt, the little kid that used to play with me in the forest and on the mountain, I would be able to kick his butt any day; now, though, with his shiny Immortal skills, Lord Matthew could do serious damage to me if he wanted to.

'How long do you require my presence?' I ask stiffly.

There is silence, and I can tell that the Immortals—and Arkarian, seated in the back of the Tribunal chamber—are holding a Truthseeing council. I feel incredibly left out, just standing here waiting while they decide how long I'll need to stay with them. And what better way to exact revenge than to abuse my reputation as a horrible blocker of my thoughts?

I begin thinking of every time Renate and I have ever held each other close, every time we kissed. I remember each instance in bright, vivid clarity, not holding back any of my thoughts. I bring all of the tender moments between Renate and me to the front of my mind, displaying them for the Tribunal members to see. From the looks of the nobles' faces, I am making it very difficult for them to concentrate—especially Lord Matthew of the Mortal Realms, who keeps shooting me disgusted faces. I go one step further, now recalling every time I've ever seen Matt and Neriah in a moment of extreme tenderness… including the one time I caught them in the closet at Arkarian and Isabel's wedding. This thought I hide from Arkarian, though; I had promised Matt that I would never tell Arkarian or Isabel about the life-scarring images I had seen that day.

'_Enough!_' Lord Matthew and Lady Neriah cry out together. All of the other Tribunal members look either amused or disgusted.

'We ask for two months,' Lady Neriah of the Mortal Realm says, her face a brilliant shade of deep red. 'That's not so long a time. Especially since you and Renate have had only three days since the day you first met; take this time to get to know each other more.'

While I want to hurl this offer back into the Tribunal members' faces, Renate's expression appears thoughtful. I can tell that she thinks well of getting to know me better, even though we have all of our lives to do so. So instead of embarrassing Renate by arguing more with the Immortals, I nod stiffly at them and turn on my heel, briskly departing the chamber. Before Renate and I pass through the chamber doors, though, I stop at Arkarian and, smirking, share with him the images I had hidden from him before. Sometimes I just can't help myself…


	37. Chapter Thirtysix: Renate

**Chapter Thirty-six: Renate**

'I can wait two months, Ethan,' I assure Ethan from within his apologetic embrace. 'It will only be a matter of minutes to my body.'

Ethan holds me tighter, whispering apologies into my hair. I know he feels like he hasn't lived up to his promise, but I also know that there is nothing I can do to make him feel otherwise; if he's blamed himself for Rochelle's death for the past eight years, he's going to beat himself up over a broken promise for a while. When Ethan finally stops apologizing, he leans down to kiss me.

'Oh, yeah, that's romantic.' Ethan and I break apart to see a smirking Isabel holding hands with Arkarian. '"I'm so, so sorry, Renate. Let me kiss you and make it all better!"' Isabel mocks jokingly. 'Arkarian's been pulling the same act on me all day.'

'I already apologized _sincerely_ for that,' Arkarian objects. 'But I had to!'

'Had to what?' I ask.

'Apologies aren't enough,' Isabel insists, glaring up at Arkarian and ignoring me and Ethan completely. It's like we're not even here. 'I thought you were _dead_, Arkarian. You should have warned me you were going to put on that little act.'

'I'm sorry,' Arkarian says softly, wrapping his arms around Isabel to rock them both back and forth. 'I apologize for not warning you that Matt and I were only pretending to be passed out. I'm sorry.' Now Arkarian stops rocking to kiss Isabel. At first he just presses his lips lightly to hers, but I have to turn my head away when the intensity between them builds.

'That's no way to kiss a girl, Arkarian!' I hear Ethan protest.

Suddenly Ethan is sweeping me back in his arms and kissing me. The kiss only ends when someone coughs, reminding us that we are still in Athens. Ethan returns me to my feet to bow to Lord Matthew of the Mortal Realm.

Lord Matthew, his face no longer an impassive mask but a Matt-like smirk. 'I thought you wanted some target practice,' the Immortal reminds Ethan, who smiles. The two men quickly run off, followed shortly by an amused-looking Isabel and Arkarian. Rolling my eyes—a habit I picked up from Isabel—I follow the lot of them to the outer courtyard of the palace, where I see Ethan taking up his deadly golden bow and arrow set.

'Are you ready?' Ethan asks Matt, a mischievous grin on his face as he notches a beautifully crafted—yet incredibly poisonous—arrow into his bow.

Matt bends his knees slightly, hands ready. He returns Ethan's grin enthusiastically, giving him a double thumbs-up.

Ethan looses the arrow—sending it thudding into Matt's shoulder. I scream in fright but no one takes any notice; they're all too busy watching Ethan murder one of the most important members of the Tribunal, and one of their own friends!

But Matt just laughs. 'Is that the best you can do?' he challenges. 'There was a time when you'd hit me in the heart on every hit!'

'Give me a break, here!' Ethan yells, smiling while he notches another arrow quickly. 'I haven't used this thing in years. I'm surprised I've been able to hit anything at all!'

Now Matt rolls his eyes while Ethan takes aim. 'It's not like this thing is aimed with your eyes. You have to use your skill of animation.'

'Don't you think I know that?'

'Ethan.'

'Yes, Lord Matthew of Earth?'

'_Mortal Realm! It's the Mortal Realm!_'

'Whatever.'

'_Shut up and shoot me!_'

Ethan readily complies, only to have Matt snatch the arrow out of the air, twirling the slender gold through his fingers while he laughs. 'You'll have to do better than _that_ at least!'

Ethan scowls before notching another arrow into his bow and loosing it, loosing another one right after. Matt catches the first arrow but is unprepared for the second one, which buries itself deeply into Matt's chest.

'Oh, come on!' Matt goaded while everyone watching claps. 'You went for the easy target! Go for something harder to hit!' An arrow thuds into Matt's forehead, right between his eyes. 'Much better!'

'What are you, my Trainer?'

'Even better,' Matt smiles. 'Your sovereign Tribunal leader.'

Isabel laughs. 'Sovereign, now, are you?' she asks.

'Yes, sovereign!' Matt says while avoiding another series of arrows that Ethan is loosing at him. 'That's what the title means, Isabel!'

'But you're just a lord,' I remind Matt. 'Which means that King Richard, Queen Brystianne, and Dartemis—a god—outrank you by far.'

Matt scowls, his concentration broken by my correction. Four arrows sink into his face, giving it an odd appearance. And yet Matt does not seem to even feel the arrows sinking into his flesh; he's thinking, one hand stroking his chin thoughtfully. Finally he gives up on whatever thought process his mind was following and yells in my direction, 'That's a nice way to boost someone's ego, Renate.'

'Your ego doesn't need boosting, o Lord of Earth,' Isabel comments dryly.

Matt stops dodging arrows to glare at his sister. '_Mortal Realm!_' he yells at her. 'How do you get off with such insubordination?'

'Easily,' Isabel remarks innocently, looking down at her fingernails. 'Being your sister, I can say pretty much whatever I want to you.'

'I hate that part of the sibling package.'

'Really? I love it.'

'Gee, I wonder why.'

'Target practice' continues in much the same way for the next few… however long it is, since time is not measured in Athens. Eventually though, Matt, so covered in arrows that he resembles a golden porcupine, advises us to go back home to our bodies.

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_Author's Note: I hope this is enough Arkarian/Isabel fluff for all of my readers (coughMISHAcough) because I swear before GOD Himself: this is the last of it! I thought I was going to vomit when I wrote the beginning of this chapter, so I had to change tracks and make it a comical chapter instead. The reason why this chapter is so short is, again, because of the Arkarian/Isabel fluff. I had to figure out a wayto fit that in there without it being totally random (come on; Arkarian is NOT a PDA-loving kinda guy. He's more conservative than that) and I still hate it. So Misha, this chapter is for you. Please stop reviewing that you would like more fluff between them, because I honestly hate (and have always hated) writing romance. The only reason I have ever written romance is because, if you haven't noticed, I am trying to emulate Marianne Curley's writing style, and she is a very romantic writer. _

_Speaking of Marianne Curley..._

_I emailed Marianne Curley via the email address at her official website and she actually emailed me back! I had told her about this fanfiction and she said she would take a look at it, so if the wonderful Marianne Curley is reading this right now: this whole fanfiction is dedicated to you! You are my favorite author of all time!_


	38. Chapter Thirtyseven: Ethan

_Author's Note: I would first like to once again acknoledge that Guardians of Time belongs only to Marianne Curley. _

_Secondly, I would like to thank Cadee Alison Annie More (the name has been changed to protect the innocent) for the wonderful book she gave me that helped me write the descriptions for the outfits that Ethan, Isabel, and Renate are wearing in this chapter, and will help me with the setting and events of the next few chapters. Daily Life in Medieval Times by Frances and Joseph Gies (just in case I can get sued for not mentioning them...)_

_Thirdly, I would like to say that the castle described in this chapter and others to come is an actual castle in France: the Château de Chenonceau. While this castle was in use during the time that Renate would have been alive (if she had been a real person, but no, she is my character), it was only used to house the royal family of France at the end of the sixteenth century. I tried looking for an image of the palace that housed the royal family of the thirteenth century--the time of Renate's childhood--but unfortunately all such castles were partially or completely destroyed by the Third Estate in their bloodthirsty French Revolution. If you would like to actually SEE what Renate's home looks like, instead of reading the pathetic excuse for a description that I have (really, the description doesn't do the castle justice) you can see it and read its history at http/ _

_MISHA: I am so glad you have had enough Arkarian/Isabel mold (that is now what I am calling "fluff", since I have had more than enough of writing romance. I won't be writing any more!_

_TRIN: I'm sorry, I really can't write any more mold between those two. Even my best friend, who is the most romantic writer I know, gagged when she read the last chapter for this fanfiction. So no, there will be no more mold between Arkarian and Isabel, or maybe not even between any of the characters. If there is any at all, it will be very VERY minor and not very potent. Maybe just holding hands, but that will be it. Especially since they have now entered the thirteenth century, where any physical contact with the opposite gender and the whole world gasped and went, "OMG DID YOU SEE THAT HE ACTUALLY POKED HER!" Thanks for the review, but no more mold! Please don't ask me to do it!_

_And now on to the story...:_

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Chapter Thirty-seven: Ethan

I hate it when I'm wrong. I really do. Especially when I'm wrong about the Order.

It turns out that the Order's soldiers really aren't giving up without a fight. Even though we'd figured that most of the soldiers were forced to work for Lathenia like Rochelle had, it turns out that a lot of them actually _liked_ working for an evil, power-hungry goddess bent on revenge. And later on they enjoyed working for her child too, I guess. Although _why_ you would want to work for something that evil escapes me completely.

Most of the missions I'm sent on are to fetch random trouble-makers who found the last remaining sphere that allows them to go back in time and mess with the past. The strangest mission I've been sent on was this one where someone actually tried to destroy Adam and Eve, thinking to destroy history itself. The person was insane—literally! She was my old school principal, Ms. Burgess! Apparently she was mad at me for stealing away "her Marcus". Ew.

But today when Arkarian brings my soul to the Citadel for briefing, I can tell that something's wrong. For one thing, Renate is here as well. She hasn't been on any of the missions I've been sent on in the past month and a half, partially because she hasn't been fully trained and partially because it would cause indescribable damage if anything was to happen to her during a mission. But no, she's here, looking just as confused as I feel.

"Who have you told about Renate?" Arkarian asks distractedly, running a hand through his long, blue hair.

"No one," I reply, amused by his anxiousness. It's not often that Arkarian gets worked up over something. "I've been taking her to work with me and everything, but everyone just thinks she's my girlfriend. Whose car has been in the shop for nearly two months."

Arkarian's eyes narrow to slits. "And you thought no one would notice that, Ethan? I thought I'd trained you better than that."

"Well how would you explain bringing your girlfriend to work every day?"

"I wouldn't have told everyone she was my girlfriend, I would have told them that she was a student who needed to shadow me for a few weeks as part of a paper she was doing for her college class."

"Well we didn't think Renate would be staying this long, did we?"

"_Sush!_" Renate ends the debate. "What's going on, Arkarian?"

Arkarian turns to look at Renate as if it is the last time he is ever going to see her, and then leads us both to the holographic sphere at the center of the room. "Take a look."

I look into the sphere, trying to work out what time period I'm looking at: a medieval castle, but that could be nearly any time period, especially since a lot of them have been preserved or rebuilt. But somehow the numerous granite turrets look too authentic to be from a rebuilt copy. It looks like a gigantic manor with a mill on one side. The whole thing is being supported by granite pillars that disappear into the river the palace is built over. The black rooftops contrast the almost white color of the granite walls, and there is a long bridge with a two-story gallery built over it that leads to the land. It is a giant, granite fortress. A magnificent garden sits on one side, a beautiful array of flowers and trees that swirls in mesmerizing colors. In the center of the garden is a fountain filled with glistening, clean water. I have no clue when or where this place is, but Renate knows all about it.

"Cela est ma maison!" she exclaims excitedly, a smile lighting her face.

Arkarian grins back at her. "Je sais," he answers. "C'est là où votre mission prochaine a lieu. Un soldat—."

"This is all very interesting to listen to," I cut in, "but unfortunately only two people in this room can speak fluent French."

Renate raised an eyebrow at me, putting her hands on her hips. "Si vous avez payé plus d'attention aux leçons je vous ai donné, alors peut-être vous pourriez participer dans ce discours!" Then she turns back to Arkarian and says something, jerking a thumb in my direction.

"Hey!" I protest when Arkarian starts laughing. "What did you say about me?"

Smiling evilly, Renate takes my hand in hers. "Rien," she says softly. I do remember that word—Renate has been giving me French lessons so I won't be totally clueless when we go back to live in her time period, but I can't seem to pick it up—it means "nothing". I highly doubt that the joke she told Arkarian was "nothing". She was probably "taquiner me", or "teasing me".

Arkarian coughs softly, interrupting the moment to bring our attention back to the sphere. "As Renate pointed out, that is her home: the Château de Chenonceau. It is where your next mission is going to take place."

I furrow my eyebrows, thinking. "So, someone has gone back to Renate's home?" I ask, trying to make sure I'm hearing correctly. "Are they trying to kill Renate?" I realize I've wrapped my arms protectively around Renate, but she doesn't seem to be protesting the hard lock I've put her in.

Arkarian nods slowly. "They have gone back in time, not to Renate's adulthood, but to her childhood. I want to send you and Renate back; you for the obvious reasons, and Renate because she knows the castle like no one else ever could."  
"_Why can't I go?_" Isabel's voice screams, followed shortly by her body as she uses her wings to appear glaring up at Arkarian. "I could help!" she points out, stabbing Arkarian in the chest with a finger. "I should be there in case anything happens! I can heal Renate, adult or child, if anything goes wrong! I can—!"

Arkarian grabs the hand of the finger that Isabel has been stabbing at his chest with each point she makes, ending her protests. "You know why you can't go!" he insists. "You said you were fine with it last night!"

"That was before we found out about this particular mission!"

"You're not going."

Isabel stares Arkarian down, breathing heavily. "I am going."

"You are not." Arkarian is meeting Isabel's glare, the intensity of his—worry?—matching that of his wife's anger. "I am not sending you into the past until after—."

"Matt said I could," Isabel says softly, a smirk growing on her face. "He said he sees nothing wrong with sending me back in time."

"When you asked him did you mention the fact that you're _pregnant?_"

"WHOA!" Renate and I exclaim at the same time, and then offer our congratulations. Arkarian drops Isabel's hand to smile proudly at his wife while they accept our well-wishes. The argument is only resurrected when I say I see nothing wrong with Isabel coming with us.

"_Have you all gone insane?_" Arkarian explodes. "What if something happened that killed her or the baby? What if she overexerted herself? What if—?"

"Arkarian, it will be a sad day when the most powerful healer to ever exist can't even heal herself," Isabel points out. "And Ethan is going, he won't let anything happen to me. Will you Ethan?" I nod quickly at Isabel's insistent glare. "See? Nothing is going to happen to me. Matt even said it's okay!"

For a moment no one says anything. Arkarian and Isabel just glare at each other, while Renate just looks too scared to say anything that might cause the couple to break into another string of arguments.

"Look at it this way," I offer slowly, gathering everyone's attention. "You already know the baby's going to be born. We've all seen that, haven't we?"

Arkarian shakes his head. "You of all people, Ethan, should know that history can easily be changed."

I nod my head slightly, trying a different angle. "Well, then," I shrug. "I guess it's a question of whether or not you trust me to bring Isabel back to you."

Now Isabel narrows her eyes at me. "I won't need any protection!" she argues.

I give her a look. "Do you want to go on the mission or not?"

That silences her.

Arkarian looks like he's having a hard time deciding. He doesn't want to risk his wife and future child, but at the same time he doesn't want to show me that he doesn't trust me, and he wants to see Isabel happy. I personally don't see anything wrong with letting her go; like Isabel said: it would be pretty sad if she couldn't even heal herself.

"How about I leave my bow and arrows at home?" I offer. Since Matt and Neriah's wedding, I haven't parted with the weapons. They've come everywhere with me, even to work when I hide the arrows in my briefcase to use as daggers if anyone from the Order decided a direct attack at me or Renate—especially since our identities weren't hidden while we were in the dungeon.

I can tell that my offer has helped Arkarian's decision a bit. Was he actually worried that I would let someone just take my arrows and hit Isabel with them? I would never let anything like that happen! After Rochelle, I would never let go of my arrows for anything! I don't want another accident like that! I don't know what I would do if I ever allowed anything like that to happen again…

Arkarian finally sighs, as much of an affirmation as we're going to get, and sends me, Renate, and Isabel to the Citadel to get new identities and knowledge for the time period.

When I walk through the long line of clothes and bodies, I come out in a red long-sleeved woolen tunic fastened at the neck with an eagle brooch. Over this tunic is another, outer tunic of deep, navy blue wool. This outer tunic is lined with what feels like rabbit fur, and has wide, loose sleeves. A circular mantle lined with more rabbit fur is fastened with a bronze chain. A thick, black leather belt is fastened at my waste, the buckle a bright bronze color that matches the chain that is fastening my mantle. And of course, no man's medieval costume is complete without bright red hose held up by the same under-belt that is also holding his underwear in place. Covering my now strawberry blonde hair a linen coif, held in place by two strings tied under my chin like a child's party hat. This garment is navy blue with bright red flowers embroidered on it, and two bright red feathers held in place by red buttons on one side. And the last part of my outfit would be the ridiculously bright red slippers on my feet. I love being a member of the Guard! What other person gets to run around in two tunics, a silly hat, slippers, and hose nearly every night?

I turn away from the mirror I had been looking at myself in—sighing at the sadly pale skin—to see Renate stepping out of the aisle. She is wearing a long, red wool dress that matches the red of my clothes. This red dress has long sleeves that end with a lining of rabbit fur. The neck of her bodice is also lined with rabbit fur. The silk belt is navy blue that matches my tunic, and goes all the way down to her navy blue slippers. There is a single sapphire-studded necklace around her neck, and a navy blue wimple covers her hair and the back of her neck.

Isabel comes out, not decked in the bright colors that Renate and I are in, but in a simple black linen dress that covers a white undergarment that shows only the long sleeves. Her hair, also blonde, is covered by a simple white wimple, and her shoes are simple black slippers. It's obvious that, while me and Renate are wearing the clothes of a lord and lady of the time period, Isabel is to be a servant or a maid.

The knowledge dust falls on our heads, giving us our identities for this mission. Turning to Renate, I gesture for her to tell me who she is now.

Renate dips me a deep curtsy, spreading her skirts wide on either side of her as she bows her head and bends her knees in the most graceful curtsy I have ever seen. "Lady Ouida of Versailles," she murmurs, bringing herself back from her curtsy just as gracefully as she had gone down.

I bow to her, bending neatly at the waist with one hand at my stomach and the other on my lower back, and introduce myself: "Your loving husband, Lord Arnaud of Versailles."

Renate and I turn to Isabel, who glowers at us and says simply, "Coralie."

I raise my eyebrows at Isabel, shaking my head reproachfully. "You were the one who wanted to go on this mission, remember? Don't go getting upset that you're the servant."

Isabel immediately sinks into an exaggerated curtsy. "Oh, I _apologize_, my _lord_, my _lady_," she says sarcastically. "I must have misplaced my manners… let me go find them while I fetch your chamber pots."

"You won't convince anyone _that_ way!" Renate protests, taking Isabel seriously. "Servants never speak to the nobility! Well, some of them do, but they are quickly punished or sent away from the chateau. You have to be more polite, more graceful. And you can't go around fetching chamber pots from other rooms, either. There's one per room, so if you go moving them around then it would just confuse people."

I make a weak attempt to hold in the laughter I feel bubbling up in my chest, but it lasts only a second before I explode. This mission is going to be more fun than I thought, with someone who has actually been to the time period coming with us. While I have gone on missions with Arkarian, it has never been to an exact time and place that he has been to before. I think the only time that would have ever happened would be when Isabel and I had to go and make sure he was actually _born_, but Arkarian did not come on that mission and probably doesn't remember his actual birth. The only person insane enough to remember his own birth is Matt, who claims to even remember the moment he was conceived.

We make our way to the darkened door that will take us to the past, meeting Arkarian just outside. Arkarian, though, has only come to try one more time to talk Isabel out of coming with us. His attempts are futile, since Isabel seems to have made up her mind. He gives her a last kiss and tells her to _be careful_—all the while glaring at me as if to say, _If you let anything happen to her I will personally kill you, former Apprentice or not_—and lets us through the door.

Renate jumps first—eager to see her home again—followed by Isabel—eager to show Arkarian that her pregnancy doesn't hinder her ability to function—but I hang back to give one last bit of comfort to Arkarian.

"'Take what comes and live without complaint,'" I quote from one of my favorite books, "'Life is a woman's gift, death is God's. What will be, will be.'"

Arkarian gives me a wry smile, looking as if he is on the verge of laughter, and then _pushes_ me through the door, telling me to quote someone other than Merlin next time.


	39. Chapter Thirtyeight: Renate

_Author's Note: In the disclaimers for my previous chapter, I forgot to mention one source: the quote that was supposedly given by Merlin. "Take what comes and live without complaint. Life is a woman's gift; death is God's. What will be, will be," actually comes from a book about King Arthur and Queen Guinevere called High Queen by Nancy Mackenzie. It WAS said by Merlin, though!_

_Anywho, I hope you all like this incredibly crappy chapter that I have written despite a writer's block that I am attempting to overcome. HAPPY NEW YEAR! W007 2006!_

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**Chapter Thirty-eight: Renate**

Ethan holds my hand when we are bowed into the dining hall by the sentry, partially to keep me from running at my father, I think.

"His Majesty, King Thierry of France," the sentry announces, causing a black-haired man I know better than any other to stand from his lonely seat in the double throne. "Lord Arnaud and Lady Ouida of Versailles."

Ethan and I walk three quarters of the way towards the high table, where my father sits in the otherwise empty throne that my mother should also occupy, if she was not about to give birth to my younger sister. Ethan bows, and I curtsy, not rising until I feel the king's hand on my head, a silent command for me to rise.

This is not the father I have known since birth! This is not the harsh man I have both respected and feared my whole life! This is not the man who has threatened to marry me to the first lord who looks at me twice! This is not my father! This man is _happy!_ What happened to cause my father to become so sour and angry, when he was once such a bright and gay person?

"What is the news from Versailles?" the king asks Ethan after raising him from his bow.

Ethan smiles, clasping his hands neutrally behind his back. "Nothing you should not have heard already, sire."

"Then why such a long journey from Versailles to Paris?"

I curtsy yet again, but only to gain the king's attention. "We were sent, sire. Duke Ansel and his lady, Duchess Adeline, bade me help care for the young princess during the birth of her new brother or sister." I have to remind myself to speak of everyone in the third person, and with the respect a Lady would give to the King and his family. I am so used to calling this man—

"Papa!" A tiny, black-haired little girl in an elegant gown of emerald green wool runs towards the king, her arms outstretched. Tears run unchecked from her vividly green eyes and down her pale cheek.

King Thierry bends down to scoop the little girl into his arms, laughing as he wipes tears away from the girl's face. The child can't be any more than three! "What is the matter, Mariposa?"

That child is _me?_ I don't ever remember being that small! And I certainly don't remember my father ever acting like this—loving, caring, _happy!_

"Papa, the bench bumped me!" I nearly burst out laughing at the little me's complaint. Benches don't bump! People bump benches!

But the king looks horrified. "The bench bumped you, did it?" he growls, his exaggerated tone belying his anger. "Take me to it! No one and nothing has the right to bump the Princess of France!"

King Thierry put his daughter—me!—back on the stone floor of the castle for her to take his hand and run towards the dark corner where I used to eat with my nurse when I was a small child.

Ethan and I follow the hysterical child and her father to the dark corner, where the girl—I have decided to call her Mariposa, since I am known as Renate now—points to a small stool.

"This is the bench that bumped you?" the king asks gently, making a fist.

Mariposa nods tearfully.

King Thierry begins to batter the bench, beating it with punches and kicks while Mariposa watches with a slightly stunned expression on her face. She allows the king to beat the stool for a few minutes before crying out fearfully, "_Stop!_ You'll hurt it!"

The king pulls away, laughing and giving the bench a pat. "I'm sorry, bench. But perhaps that will teach you better than to bump _my_ daughter again!" Then, looking around, the king asked, "Where is your nurse, Mariposa?"

Mariposa pointed down through the double doors Ethan and I had just entered through. "She never woke up this morning."

The King's eyebrows furrow. "So who dressed you and brought you to breakfast?" he asks, a small amount of anger in his eyes. Still, it's not the anger that I am accustomed to seeing in my father's eyes! Maybe it is because I have been stuck in the future for so long, maybe I have lost or changed some of my memories…

Mariposa looks extremely happy with herself. "I did!" she exclaims proudly. "I chose my gown and put it on and everything!"

The king smiles, but he still looks displeased. He notices me once again and picks Mariposa up to place her in my arms. "Princess Mariposa of France, I would be my honor to introduce you to your new playmate: Lady Ouida of Versailles." Then, looking curiously up at Ethan, King Thierry asks, "And your purpose for traveling to Paris, my lord?"

Ethan smiles and wraps an arm around me protectively. "To protect my new wife from brigands and thieves, sire. It's dangerous to allow a lady to travel the roads alone, these days. I decided to accompany her, to protect her and to visit court for the first time since my childhood."

The king nodded and welcomed us to Paris, explaining that the queen would greet us too, but the birth of their second child was keeping her in bed until after the birth. "I'll have a servant show you to a guest bedchamber, unless you would like to breakfast with us first?"

Insisting that we had eaten shortly before arriving, Ethan assents to allow a servant girl to usher us to an available bedchamber.

"Glad to be home?" Ethan asks me in English, grinning. He sits down on the bed and starts to take his slippers off.

I look out the window at the flowering garden. "Very glad. I just don't know what we're going to do about tonight."

Ethan looks confused. "Why are you worried about tonight? We might not be here that long, you know. Usually members of the Order just pop in, do what they're here to do, and pop out. They never really take much time with their missions, except for a few times. If it's a big mission they'll take their time, but right now they're only messing with you and me. I'm not sure of how big the repercussions will be if they succeed, except that I am going to be one unhappy man for the rest of my life…" Ethan leans back into the bed and puts his head on the pillow, looking as if he would like nothing more than to take a long nap. "Out of curiosity, why are you worried about tonight?"

I shoot Ethan a look. "You should know, you're the one who is constantly bragging about how many times he's gone into the past."

"Enlighten me, Lady Ouida."

I feel my face go totally and completely _red_. I regret opening my mouth in the first place. "Forget it."

Ethan sits up, putting his hands on his knees and looking interested. "No. You mentioned it, and you're not worried about it for nothing. What's going to happen tonight?"

If it's possible, I think my face turns even redder. "Well, in my time period… adults sleep… _sans les vêtements_."

"_What? We're going to have to sleep—in the same bed—totally and completely naked?_"

I had forgotten that the knowledge dust gave Ethan the ability to speak fluid French… "But, like you said," I try to reassure him, "we might not even be hear that long!"

"Are you kidding? I was only trying to reassure you when I said that! Of course we're going to be staying here for at least a night or two!"

"You know, I could hear you guys yelling all the way down in the servant's quarters." Isabel steps through the door, a small smirk beginning on her face. "Did you two find out about the sleeping arrangements already?"

Ethan looks petrified. "How did _you_ know?"

"Hello? I'm your servant!" Isabel reminds him. "I had to be told where to get your bath water from and what time to bring it in… what the proper attire is for a court breakfast and when to arrive with your day clothes… imagine how stupid I looked when I actually thought to ask, 'So when I take their night clothes to them?'"

I blush and murmur, "And we're going to have to bathe together as well…"

"_Holy crap!_"

Isabel gives Ethan an amused look, a smile playing on her lips. "You know," she says in an amused tone, "most guys would be overjoyed to hear that they were being forced to sleep naked and bathe with their girlfriends."

Ethan glares at Isabel. "I'm not other guys."

"Obviously. Anywho, guess what?"

"What?"

"It turns out that pregnancy is like a turn-on for guys here! So I spread it around that I am 'with child' to make it more difficult for anyone from the Order to realize who we are—I'm pretty sure none of them could know about me yet—and now I've got seven guys trying to woo me. _You hear that?_" Isabel starts screaming at the ceiling, knowing that Arkarian would be listening to this entire conversation. "_My pregnancy isn't hindering the mission, it's actually helping it!_"

"If you don't quiet down, though, you being here at all is going to hinder the mission," Ethan pointed out, cleaning out one of his ears with a pained expression.

There's a loud knock on the door, and Isabel goes to open it with a quick dip of the knee to the lord waiting for entrance outside. Suddenly, before the man has a chance to enter, Isabel drops her servant's façade to stamp her foot angrily on the stone floor.

"What are you doing here?" she hisses angrily. "I thought you were going to let me do this! Go back right now!" Then, looking confused, she asks, "But if you're here, then who is monitoring the mission?"

A brown-haired young man walks swiftly into the room, shutting the door behind him as soon as he enters. Then, turning, I recognize the face: _Arkarian_.

"What mission are you talking about?" Arkarian asks, looking at Isabel, then at Ethan, and finally at me. "I don't even know any of you… what has Lathenia sent you here for?"

"You can stop acting," Isabel hisses, still angry. "It doesn't matter what body you borrow from the Citadel, I will always recognize _you_, Arkarian?"

"Where did you learn that name?" Arkarian asks quickly, his light blue eyes widening.

I shake my head, going to comfort a very confused Isabel. "He's not acting," I assure her. "This is the Arkarian of _my_ time period, but you can't refer to him as 'Arkarian' unless it is a private meeting." I grab Isabel's arm, recognizing the look that is beginning to bloom on her face. "Remember, this is not the Arkarian you are married to; this is Merlin, the king's enchanter."

"_Married to?_" Arkarian gasps. "You're all from the future! What's going on? What is Lathenia trying to mess with in this time period?" Arkarian's face no longer expresses confusion. "What is she after? Is she trying to kill the queen? Or perhaps the child that is expected any day now? The king? Princess Mariposa?"

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner!" Ethan's joke just brings Arkarian's face back to confusion. "Sorry; in the future we're going to have something called televisions, which will give rise to game shows, but you don't really need to know about that…"

Isabel laughs. "You never learn, do you?" she asks. "Just because this is Arkarian doesn't mean he's _our_ Arkarian. We still have to be on our guard around him." Then, putting her hands on her hips, she turns accusatorily to Arkarian. "So how do you know we're from the Guard?" Then, remembering she was supposed to be a servant, Isabel curtsies clumsily and murmurs, "My lord."

Arkarian shakes his head confusedly. "Please tell me I won't train any of you in the future?"

Ethan and I raise our hands guiltily. "But I'm not so far ahead into the future," I offer lamely.

"And don't be so disappointed in me, either," Ethan reprimands. "You're like my brother later on, whether you like it now or not."

"What year do you all come from?"

Isabel and Ethan chorus, "2006," while I murmur "1400."

Arkarian takes a good look at me for the first time since he's walked into the chamber. His eyes study my face, finally looking deeply into my eyes. Suddenly he sinks into a kneel. "Princess Mariposa!"

I raise him quickly, ignoring Ethan's smile. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Renate?" I demand, belatedly remembering that I will not attain that nickname for some years.

"Apologies, Princess!"

"_And stop calling me 'Princess'!"_

Ethan laughs and comes up to slap Arkarian on the shoulder. "Hey, my name is Ethan Roberts but for now you should call me Lord Arnaud. Don't worry; after this meeting you won't ever see me again… for another twenty-two years. But after that, I'll only be living here, so don't bother to get to know me at all!"

Arkarian stares at Ethan. "Why would you be coming to live in this time period?" he whispers. "I can't imagine Lorian ever agreeing to that."

The room stills. No one can say anything about Lorian, because we would have to tell Arkarian that Lorian is dead in the future, which would mean that Arkarian would become anxious around the time that Lorian is going to die. It would also mean the possibility of revealing the identity of Arkarian's father, which he is not going to know until after he turns six hundred.

"So you never cut your hair, do you?" Isabel asks, attempting to change the subject. "I wish I knew at what age it started to turn blue…"

"Probably around the same time a normal person's hair would turn grey," Ethan says, going along with Isabel. "But I guess we'll never know, will we?"

I shake my head at the two, knowing that they will probably go on for a while about small things that don't really mean anything. "So," I begin, turning back to my future Trainer. "What brings you in here in the first place?"

"I heard shouting," Arkarian replies, looking at Isabel as if she is the oddest creature he's ever seen. "I came to see who was shouting and why, and if there was anything I could do to help, if anything was wrong."

Ethan jerks his thumb at Isabel. "That would have been—."

"Coralie," Isabel finishes for Ethan, stunning him into silence. "You can call me Coralie. And no, nothing is wrong. I was just shouting at the _future_ Arkarian, because he didn't want me to go on this mission in the first place."

Arkarian nods, still looking confused. "Well, I'm sure he—I—he—had—has—had—a good reason…"

Isabel gives a small nod. Why doesn't she tell Arkarian her real name? He is going to be her husband and soul-mate, after all! But one glance from Isabel and I suddenly know why: if he knows her real name, then he will go looking for Isabels in the future, especially if he finds out that Isabel has the ability to retain her youth, meaning that she could be any age. And then I recall Ethan telling me once that Arkarian had been surprised to discover that he was Isabel's soul-mate, so if Isabel told Arkarian right now what her name was, then in the future Arkarian would not be surprised and might do something that could change the events of the future. My head hurts; too many tiny details could have the biggest effect on how the future unfolds!

Arkarian leaves when he remembers that he has been summoned by the king, shutting the door on Isabel's admirable expression. "I wish I had a photographic memory," she explains, "so I could take a mental picture of him right now and look at it whenever I want."

"What's wrong with the blue-haired Arkarian you've got?" Ethan asks.

"Nothing," Isabel says quickly, blushing. "I've just… always had a thing for guys with blue eyes, is all."

Ethan smiles. "So _that's_ why you had a crush on me? For my pretty blue eyes?" Ethan flutters his eyelashes with his head tilted to the side.

"Shut up!" Isabel urges. "I want to hear more about this time period from Renate… so what's a wedding like here?"

Her question stuns me. "What?" I ask, trying to make sure I've heard her correctly. "Why do you want to know what a wedding is like?"

"Well, I'm assuming you and Ethan are going to get married in your time period rather than allow your body to wake up and announce that you got married in your sleep, so I want to know what your wedding is going to be like."

"How about we start looking for someone who might do something to Mariposa instead?" I offer.

"_Ay, Mariposa te amo… mi Mariposa te amo…_" Ethan sings. Isabel and I turn to give him strange looks. "What?" he asks. "It's a popular song in Nicaragua!"

"And we all know about much that's going to help us on this mission," Isabel says, rolling her eyes. "A Spanish song from 2006, popular only in Nicaragua."

"And other South American countries!"

"Oh, I apologize. Popular only in South America."

"Well, not _all_ of South America…"

"Popular only in some South American countries."

"It's not just _some_, Isabel, there are a lot of them!"

"Popular in a lot of South American countries."

"Well now you make it sound like it's popular all over South America."

"Is there even a point to this conversation, Ethan?"

"You're the one who's saying it wrong!"

"Why are we even arguing about the origin of a Spanish song?"

"I don't know… I just remembered it when Renate called Little Renate 'Mariposa'."

"Well that's her name, isn't it?" I cut in. "No one called me 'Renate' until I was at least six.

"But that doesn't matter," Isabel insists, "because we are never going to be calling the child anything more than 'her highness' or 'her majesty' or 'princess', are we?"

"Well, since I am supposedly here to be her playmate, I am at liberty to call her pretty much whatever I want as long as it's in private."

"Lucky you."

"Do you think it's going to feel weird, talking to yourself?"

Isabel and I give Ethan a second round of odd glances.

"I was just asking…"

I shake my head yet again, trying to get back to the original reason for why we are here. "Have either of you seen anyone who doesn't belong here?" I ask. "Or anyone who has recently arrived here?"

Isabel shakes her head, and Ethan replies that the only people we've met are the servant who led us here and the king.

"The king was kind of worrying me," I say, biting my lip. "He's not the king that I remember from my childhood…"

Ethan sits back down on the bed, and then lets himself fall back to lie down. "He seemed nice to me," he says, recalling the man we just met in the dining hall.

I almost roll my eyes at him. "Ethan, I'm twenty-five years old. Most girls are married off at age twelve. Would you like to know why I am a spinster?"

"You're not a spinster…"

"It's because my father locks up any man—nobility or servant—who looks at me in the wrong way, and then has them tortured. He ignored me my whole life—."

"But then what was that whole display with the bench?"

"That's my point!" I exclaim, going over to plop down on the bed near Ethan's head. I sigh, letting some of my exasperation show. "Usually, if I said that the bench had bumped me, my father would have ignored me completely or taken me to my nurse. Only women usually do what my father did to that bench; it's considered a life lesson in justice, beating up whatever it was that hurt the child until the child feels avenged."

Ethan laughs and sits up, looking at me. "You—or rather, Mariposa—didn't seem to enjoy vengeance all that much."

I blush. "Yes, well, I've never been a big fan of corporal punishment."

Ethan leans in to kiss me, causing Isabel to cough loudly. "We're still not done here!" she insists, causing Ethan to pull away with a disappointed grin. "So you're saying, Renate, that this man is not your father?"

I nod. "I don't really think he is… is it possible for someone to take the appearance of a real person?" I ask, looking uncertainly at Ethan, who nods and explains that it usually isn't done because one would have to also assume the personality of the person you appear to be, which adds more risk if you are someone influential—like the king—or come across someone who knows the body well—like any member of the court.

"Great," Isabel says, throwing up her hands in the air. "So all we have to do is battle it out with the King of France."


	40. Chapter Thirtynine: Ethan

**Chapter Thirty-nine: Ethan**

I don't know whether to curse or to bless the standards of hygiene in medieval France. Renate and I were able to avoid bathing together by explaining that we'd bathed in the last roadside inn we'd stayed at. Unfortunately, we still had to sleep naked in the same bed, since we were unable to get the king alone all day yesterday. It was the most uncomfortable night of my life, and I know it was the same for Renate, since we slept as far away from each other as possible, with our backs to each other so we wouldn't accidentally see anything if we needed to get up for some reason. Isabel had shot down my idea to have me sleep on the floor in nightclothes—who would know?—by explaining that it might not be her who wakes us up. Apparently she is not 'our' servant while we are at court; she is the property of the entire court, and can be used by any courtier. The only people who have their own servants at court are the king and the rest of the royal family.

However, Isabel turns out to be the one to wake me and Renate in the morning, bringing us clothes like the ones we had worn yesterday, only this time in bright shades of yellow and white. Renate and I take turns getting dressed, one of us shutting the curtains around the gigantic bed while the other puts on their clothes. Isabel stands in the corner with her back to us, occasionally running to the balcony to throw up over the granite ledge. Morning sickness, I guess. When she's done, she side-steps back to her corner without turning her head.

After Renate is finished dressing, she and Isabel have what could be a modern-day slumber party. Isabel braids Renate's hair and then hides the braid under a white wimple, and then spreads sheep fat across Renate's cheeks to tint them pink. While Isabel and I find this horribly disgusting, Renate is apparently accustomed to the feel of sheep fat on her face.

After that long ordeal—standing there with nothing to do while your best female friend smears sheep fat across your girlfriend's cheeks for an hour _is_ an ordeal—Renate and I go to the church for Mass. After pretending to understand Latin—and succeeding only by mouthing 'watermelon' the entire time—we are taken back to the dining chamber to breakfast on bread and the most horrible wine I have ever tasted.

At breakfast I try to find something interesting to captivate the king's attention with, to invite him to discuss later on in a more private setting. King Thierry, however, seems preoccupied and doesn't talk all throughout the meal.

Midway through breakfast, Renate looks down under the table to see little Mariposa tugging on the skirt of Renate's gown, a doll clutched tightly in her hand.

'Little Highness!' Renate exclaims in French. 'What are you doing under the table? Where is your nurse?'

Mariposa looks up into Renate's eyes, a look so serious on that tiny child's face that it makes me want to laugh. I swallow my laughter when I hear Mariposa answer Renate: 'Are you me?'

Renate freezes visibly, her eyes wide. I save her quickly, bowing to the princess in my seat. 'How can Lady Ouida possibly be Your Highness?' I ask. 'She's too old to be Your Highness. You, my lady, are much prettier than Lady Ouida has ever been and ever could be.'

While this statement is not necessarily true, it makes Mariposa's face flush with happiness, and I can see her opinion of me rising in her eyes. She stands and pulls herself up to sit in my lap. 'Are you my playmate too?' she asks, happily swinging her legs off my knees.

I almost laugh, but I manage to hold it in. So far King Thierry has not noticed any of this, and I am not sure it would be appropriate if the king looked over to find his daughter seated in the lap of a visiting lord. However, Renate is not doing anything to discourage this conversation or the manner in which it is being held, so I am taking that to be a good sign. 'I'm sorry, Princess, no," I tell her. When Mariposa's face falls, I add hurriedly, 'But that doesn't mean we can't be friends, does it?'

Mariposa smiles again. 'I like you!' she states matter-of-factly. 'What's your name?'

'Your Highness may address me as Lord Arnaud, or just Arnaud if you wish.'

'Are you an enchanter, like Merlin?' Mariposa asks with wide eyes.

I give the child a bewildered look, trying to figure out how she took my name to mean that I am an enchanter. 'What makes you think that I am an enchanter, Princess?"

'Because only Merlin ever says things like "if you wish"! And then he actually makes those things that you wished for appear!' Now Mariposa is speaking raptly, as if it is the most amazing thing she has ever experienced.

I smile evilly, a small part of my brain warning me that what I am about to do is not a good idea, but this child is only three years old, and adorable! 'What if I told you that I _am_ an enchanter, Princess?'

Mariposa smiles, ecstatic. 'What can you do?' she asks curiously. 'What are your powers?'

'I can predict the future.'

'What am I going to wear tomorrow?'

'Not that sort of future!' I laugh. 'I see important events that are going to take place. For example, when you turn twenty-five you are going to marry the most handsome man in all of France.'

'And Spain and England too?'

'And Spain and England too.'

Renate laughs hysterically. 'And what would this man's name be, Arnaud?' she asks me, knowing that I can't give away my real name while we are in the past. 'Where is he from? What title will he hold?'

I think for a moment, knowing that I have to think of something before Mariposa gets bored. 'His name will be…' Names race through my mind, until I remember Arkarian's pseudo name: Merlin. 'His name will be Arthur,' I answer confidently. 'He will be a king from a distant land that you do not know about.'

'What is this land called?' Mariposa asks, enjoying the story so much that she leans back to rest her head on my shoulder. 'What is Arthur going to be like?'

Renate leans in and whispers something in Mariposa's ear, making the child laugh so loudly that she draws the king's attention. 'Mariposa!' the king reprimands gently. 'What are you doing with Lord Arnaud and Lady Ouida, child? Come here and sit with your father!'

Mariposa looks fearfully at the king before she wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. Her face buried in my shoulder, I can hear her muttering frantically in Spanish: '_Eso no es mi padre. Yo no sé quién es, pero él es un hombre malo. Él mandó a mi niñera leja y me dio una nueva. Mi niñera nueva es mala y yo no la cae bien. Ella me hace escondo en el armario mientras ella habla a mi padre, y hace calor en el armario._'

I have no clue what Mariposa is trying to tell me, since I don't know anything but English and French. I didn't even know that Mariposa—or Renate—knew Spanish! But I guess it works, since Mariposa's mother was a Spanish princess before she was a French queen.

I try to commit what Mariposa said to memory so I can get Renate to translate it later. While I do this, King Thierry comes and takes his daughter from me. Mariposa doesn't go quietly; she screams and flails about, broken bits of French and Spanish spewing from her three-year-old mouth as her father calls for her nurse to come and take her away. A haggard-looking woman comes and takes Mariposa, scolding her for sneaking away from her breakfast to bother the adults.

Renate is looking stunned at the appearance of the nurse. Under the table, I grip her hand and squeeze it to get her to look at me. When our eyes meet, a message passes between us: she doesn't know this person. This is not the nurse that she had when she was a child, or at least not the one that she remembers having as a child. Does this mean that we were wrong about the king? Or are there two soldiers here? If the latter is true, then this mission is going to be more difficult; we're going to have to get the king and the nurse together to fight them without one hearing about the other, and figuring out we're here. Although I'm pretty sure that, if the king is a member of the Order, then Renate, Isabel and I have already been discovered. We're going to have to do this soon, getting to them before they can do anything to us.

As soon as the nurse disappears with Mariposa, Renate stands and curtsies low to the king, begging for him to excuse her to be with the young princess. 'That is,' she points out, 'why my husband and I came to Paris, Your Majesty.'

King Thierry gives Renate permission to go by flicking his hand at her. Since I was included in the request, I take this to mean that I can go as well, and I follow Renate out of the dining chamber to follow the nurse.

'That is not my nurse!' Renate hisses at me as soon as the doors to the dining chamber close behind us. 'I heard what Mariposa said to you: "That's not my father. I don't know who he is, but he's a bad man. He sent my nurse away and gave me a new nurse. My new nurse is mean and I don't like her. She makes me hide in the closet when she talks to my dad, and it's hot in the closet." What are we going to do about this?'

I shrug, completely at a loss for ideas. 'I have no clue. If we're going to do anything, we're going to need Isabel. She can heal us if we get hurt fighting, and she'll raise one hell of a ruckus if we leave her out of the action.'

Renate laughs, knowing I'm just joking about the jibe on Isabel. But it's true: if we don't include Isabel in the fight, she'll be angry with me for weeks… _if_ I'm even in 2006 for much longer. The two months that the Tribunal requested are almost over—they will officially be over in three days.

When I ask Renate if she has a plan, she just shakes her head. 'It would be bad if we did anything in front of Mariposa,' she thinks aloud, 'so the fact that one of the soldiers is the nurse gives that soldier immunity for now.'

'So you're sure that King Thierry is a soldier as well?'

'Definitely,' Renate answers, her voice hard. 'My father never acted like that. When he wasn't angry with me, he was angry with my mother for never giving him a son. At the same time, he was so overprotective of me that I could barely breathe. I never remember him being as kind to me as he seems to be to Mariposa.'

I shrug again. 'So then maybe the replacement is better for Mariposa, if the real king was as bad as you say he was.'

'_Arnaud!_'

'I'm just joking! Good job on the name, by the way.'

'Thanks…'

We're whispering now, talking about such confidential matters so close to an enemy. When the nurse pulls Mariposa into a chamber, Renate and I keep walking until we reach our own chamber to see Isabel waiting for us with Merlin.

I stand in the doorway with my hands on my hips. 'Aren't servants supposed to have work to do?' I ask Isabel. Isabel, sitting on the bed with Merlin, jumps when she hears me.

'I was just getting to know the younger Arkarian better!' Isabel explains. 'And the fact that…' Isabel's eyes slide over to where Merlin is watching her, waiting for her to let something slip about his future with his wife. 'Due to my current condition,' Isabel amends, 'the other servants have agreed to do most of my work for me.'

'What condition are you in, Coralie?' Merlin asks interestedly.

Isabel hesitates, biting her lip. 'Earlier today I had a stomach bug,' she says after a moment of silence. Then, seeing Merlin's confused face, explains what a stomach bug is. 'I was throwing up all morning,' she says. 'I had a headache as well, and so all of the servants agreed to help me until I was sure that I was better.'

'That's funny,' Merlin says thoughtfully. 'The servants are not usually so generous with favors… but then again, I am not one of their fellow servants, so perhaps they act differently when they are amongst only themselves.'

'Oh yeah,' Isabel agrees quickly. 'You should see the difference in the way they act! Whenever there's a noble nearby, they're cheeky little buggers. But when they're all on their own, they are the nicest people I've ever met! Well, except for you, but that won't happen for another six... a few more years.' Isabel stops herself before she can give anything away about when she and Arkarian are going to meet, probably thinking that if Merlin knows everything about his future relationship with Isabel, he will go looking for Isabels during that time period. She's right, of course, but I think she's being a little too careful; this is _Arkarian _we're talking about, not Dillon. Arkarian would probably give up on finding his soul-mate in a few years, figuring that he'll know her when she comes along. If this was Dillon, then I would be worried. Dillon can be sort of stalker-ish.

Renate plops down on the bed behind Isabel and Merlin, lying flat along the pillows that Isabel had probably asked another servant to pile neatly on the bed. 'What are we going to do?' Renate grumbles, picking up a pillow to bury her face into the soft cotton.

'If you told me what's going on, maybe I could help,' Merlin offers.

All three of us—Isabel, Renate and I—freeze. Would we be allowed to accept help from another Guard while we're in the past? This has never happened to me before! If Arkarian—the future one—were here, I would ask him if it had ever happened to him, and what we should do now that it is happening to us, but he is not here. Merlin was never supposed to know that we are here, but now that he does, how much could it hurt to tell him what's going on in his own time period?

I wonder if Arkarian in the future is actually remembering meeting us at this point in time…

What if we told Merlin what's going on, and he helped us, and he was killed somehow? But that could never happen, because Isabel's here, and Isabel would never let anything happen to any Arkarian, whether he knew who she was or not.

From the look on Merlin's face, he is picking up someone's thoughts—probably Renate's, since she is the only one who has not been taught how to block her thoughts from truthseers. What is Renate thinking about that is making Arkarian look so shocked?

_The oompa loompas are out to get you!_ I think loudly at Merlin, shoving the thoughts into his head. When Merlin gives me a look that lets me know he thinks I'm insane, I know I've distracted him from Renate. _Ay, Mariposa, te amo! Mi Mariposa te amo! Ya no regreso contigo! Ay, ay, ay, ay amor… _I think as many random thoughts as I can think of, trying to keep Merlin from paying attention to Renate again. I make sure to mention as many future inventions as I can so he wastes time wondering what I'm talking about. Frantically I try to tell Isabel to get Renate to stop thinking, or at least stop thinking about the mission. _Harry Potter has a hero complex! The first sin is intercourse! BIRD, BIRD! You can fight only if you dress up in a kangaroo costume and have a Kangaroo Fight! It's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind! Oops, I did it again! So much for my happy ending! Ay, Mariposa tea mo! She's just the girl I'm looking for! _Isabel finally figures out what I'm doing and why, and pulls the pillow off of Renate's face and hits her with it.

'_Ow!_ What was that for?'

Isabel gives Renate a look, making the 'Zip it!' sign across her forehead. Unfortunately, this only confuses Renate even more.

_Pocahontas was not the skinny Barbie that Disney made her out to be! W007! I pwoned you! EMC2! Operation Paperclip! Two hydrogens plus one oxygen equals water!_

Finally Renate picks up on what is going on, and changes the topic of the verbal conversation. 'So what do you do as the king's enchanter, Merlin?'

'I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog too!' Renate, Isabel, and Merlin give me odd looks, letting me know that I actually said that out loud instead of thinking it.

Merlin shakes his head with disapproval. 'Are you _sure_ you were _my_ Apprentice?'

I smile. 'Positive.'

'Do you take any drugs in the future? Or do you get the gift of sanity at any point in your life, because I really think you need it…'

I give Merlin a glare, answering only his first question with, 'Only Ibuprofen when I have a cold, but I haven't had a cold in four years.'

'What lasting side-effects does Ibuprofen have?'

I count off on my fingers. 'Stroke, heart-attack, death… no, wait, that's the STD medicine… _no, Isabel, I do not have an STD!_'

Isabel glares at me, angry for some reason. What did I do? Was it the joke about the STD? Did I go too far there? I mentally go over everything I said until I realize that I used Isabel's real name! How am I going to get out of this one?

I quickly turn to Renate. 'You really have to start trusting me, Isabel!' Renate looks confused at this sudden change of reference. 'I would never do anything that would cause me to have an STD.'

Renate shakes her head. 'I don't even know what an STD _is_, Ethan. Why are you calling me "Isabel"?'

'Because that's your name.'

'I thought her name was Renate,' Merlin points out, looking at Isabel with new interest. 'And your name, my lady, was…'

'Coralie,' Isabel answers quickly. 'My name is Coralie Tapel.'

'What is your _real_ name?'

'Coralie!'

'But that is what the servants call you, as well, which means that must be your alias. What is your true name?'

'My true name is Coralie!' Isabel insists. 'I used my real name this time because I figured that none of the Order's soldiers would expect me to give away my real name.'

Merlin nods knowingly, and then stands and bows to the entire room. 'Lady Ouida—.'

'Renate,' Renate corrects.

Merlin bows to me. 'Lord Arnaud—.'

'Ethan,' I correct. 'And don't you forget it, either. Remember: I'm coming back in a few years.' If I didn't know Arkarian would think I was joking, I probably wouldn't have said that to him…

Merlin bows to Isabel. 'Coralie.' Merlin waits for Isabel to correct him, but she purses her lips and taps a toe angrily against the stone floor while she waits for Merlin to leave. When he does—muttering something about having a 'future song' he doesn't even know stuck in his head—she explodes.

'_You idiot, you gave away my real name! Now he's going to go dating every girl named Isabel for the next six hundred years!_'

I shake my head at my infuriated friend. 'I don't think so,' I say, thinking hard. 'Even in this time period, Arkarian doesn't seem like the type of man to go through life _looking_ for his soul-mate. If anything, Arkarian is probably the type to let his soul-mate come to him on her own. Remember: when Arkarian found out you were his soul-mate, he didn't want you to be. He wanted a different soul-mate for you.'

Isabel is still mad. 'But now he knows for a fact that we are going to get married!' she points out. 'His reaction will be different!'

I change the subject back to the one Renate and I had been discussing before we walked in on this minefield, since there is obviously no way that I am going to win this argument. 'I think tonight we should go to Mariposa's bedchamber.'

'Why?' Isabel asks. 'What's going on in Mariposa's bedchamber?'

'Mariposa told us that when the king and her nurse talk, they put her in her closet so she can't overhear them,' Renate explains.

'But why should we go to Mariposa's bedchamber tonight? Shouldn't we get this over with _now_ so we can go home?'

'Isabel, when have all of the bad guys we've fought met up with each other?' I ask facetiously.

Isabel glares at me, but answers the question anyway. 'At night…' she mutters. 'But how are we going to do this at night? What are you and Renate going to do, battle it out with the King of France and his daughter's milk nurse while you guys are naked?'

Renate blushes, and I can feel my own face heat up as well. I do not look forward to another night like last night. 'We have to do this tonight,' I say firmly. 'We'll find some way around it. We could just pretend to go to sleep, and stay in our clothes. When we're sure most of the castle is asleep, we'll sneak over to Mariposa's room and wait for King Thierry and the nurse to show up.'

Isabel smiles. 'Now you're talking treason. This is the best mission ever!'


	41. Chapter Forty: Renate

_Hey, all. I'm sorry for such a long wait, I promise it won't happen again! A lot's been going on in the past few weeks, but I won't bother you all with excuses. The next chapter will be out in LESS THAN a month, I promise! _

_Elven-jewel-18: yes, I KNOW I changed Ethan's pseudo name! I have a plan! I don't know why I am lengthening this story so much, but I JUST got an uber-awesome idea that goes along with the other idea I originally had! It's awesome and I love it and I'll tell you all about it! And now the rest of my readers are all confused, and I'm wondering if I should just take this paragraph out of the author's note at all... NAH!_

_Again, I am SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO (to the infinite power cubed... I am such a math geek...) SORRY for taking so long with this chapter! But here it is, and please enjoy it, and I won't even ask you to review!_

* * *

Looking down at Mariposa's face from my levitated post at her ceiling, I start to wonder how I could never have noticed how young and innocent I looked at that age. Every time I had ever looked at my reflection, I had always seen a grown-up looking little girl with a stubborn chin and slanted eyes. So how could I ever have looked like _that_ when I only remember looking the way I do now?

I shake my head, turning my attention back to protecting Mariposa. It had been easy enough getting into her bedchamber. An illusion of Ethan's and my sleeping forms awaits anyone who might think to enter our chamber, although this is highly unlikely. The lack of guards lining the halls was fortunate, but also very depressing. The only sentries we came across on our way to the princess's chambers were the two dozing guards posted outside Mariposa's door. They had been embarrassingly easy to sneak past.

Once inside, Ethan had directed me to levitate about Mariposa's bed so I could swoop down on any would-be attackers. After a quick inspection to make sure we were the only ones hiding in Mariposa's room, Isabel had taken cover inside the massive wardrobe, leaving Ethan to hide—

'Ah-_choo!_'

—under the bed.

'Ah-_choo!_' Ethan sneezes again, causing Mariposa to stir. 'Ah-_choo!_' I close my eyes and pray that Ethan won't—'Ah-_choo!_'—sneeze again…

Mariposa's eyes flicker open, the bright green irises taking in the sight of her adult playmate levitating at her ceiling. Her small, round face scrunches up in confusion. "Lady Ouida?" Mariposa asks in a sleepy and confused voice.

Oh…

Hell…

Why didn't we ever think about this? What do I do? Why couldn't I have had a _useful_ skill, like invisibility, so I could do something to get out of this…

Belatedly, I notice that my panic has caused me to drift downwards towards Mariposa. I quickly try to remember Ethan—his embrace, his kiss, his laughter, everything about him—but I just keep descending!

I thrust my hands out to either side of me in a pathetic attempt to at least slow me descent, only to pull them back in when I see the heavenly slow that bathes not only my hands, but my entire body.

The blindingly bright light comes from a point directly behind me, illuminating the folds of the pale yellow undergown that had been a part of my ensemble today. The blonde strands of my borrowed hair shine brilliantly, reflected in the wide eyes of the princess beneath me.

It doesn't take me long to piece together what is going on: this is one of Ethan's illusions being used to give me a reason for defying gravity in a royal bedchamber. I go along with it, letting my body descend slowly until I come to rest on my stomach on the silk coverlet of Mariposa's bed.

'Yes, highness?' I ask innocently, propping my head on my hand and looking at the child with fluttering eyelashes.

Mariposa notices none of this, as her eyes are still fixed on the bright light behind us. 'Lady Ouida,' she breathes, 'did you just come down from Heaven?'

I smile and take the girl's head between both of my hands, bringing her face down so that she looks at me. 'Yes, I did.' I almost laugh when Mariposa gasps in surprise, although I would have thought that the bright light and the fact that I had just floated down onto her bed from seemingly nowhere would have prepared her for such an answer. 'Mariposa, I am not only your playmate, I am also an angel.'

Mariposa bows her head and begins saying prayers in Spanish, crossing herself in the way that my own mother taught me to do when I was a child. Wait, what am I saying? This _is_ me!

All of a sudden, Mariposa snaps her head up to look at me fearfully. 'I don't want to!' she squeals in French, taking me by surprise.

What is the girl talking about? Why is her breath coming faster, as if I am not an angel but a demon come to take her soul to be eternally tortured? Why is she drawing the covers up closer, as if afraid that I might touch her?

'What are you talking about, Mariposa?'

Mariposa trembles and blinks her eyes quickly. 'I don't want to have the Lord's child!'

I almost burst out laughing, but instead I assure her, 'No, that is not why I have come. What gave you that idea?'

Mariposa lowers the covers and inches closer to me, looking relieved. 'The angel Gabriel came to Mary to tell her that she was to have the Lord's child,' she explains. 'I thought you were here to tell me the same thing.'

I shake my head, a smile spreading across my face despite my best efforts to keep my expression solemn. 'You're much too young to be a mother, Mariposa,' I tell her in a whisper, remembering that we need to keep things quiet. 'And I am not a messenger angel, I am your guardian angel. My name is…' I wrack my brain searching for a name that I can use that would be appropriate for this situation. In the end, I decide on the Welsh name meaning 'white shadow': 'My name is Guinevere.'

Now Mariposa looks confused, probably more because of the laughter that seems to be coming from under the bed than from my sudden change of identity.

My smile becomes strained and, unable to control myself, I reach down under the bed and yank a handful of Ethan's hair until he appears standing beside the bed, his hand covering mine to get me to let go. He is wearing a painful expression and a pastel yellow underrobe like mine. I let go of his hair—an act of mercy, I think, considering that this is the second time in the past five minutes that he has jeopardized the mission—and, still smiling, introduce him to Mariposa using the first name to come to me: Lancelot.

Mariposa looks at me, the angel to float down from the light above that _must_ be Heaven, and then at Ethan, who has just crawled out from the dark space under her bed, and scoots as far away from him as she can. 'Is Lord Arnaud a demon?' she whispers to me.

I shake my head, my smile genuine again. 'No, Lancelot is not a demon, although he can act like one sometimes. He is also one of your guardian angels—.'

'How many guardian angels do I have then?'

'Just two,' I say quickly, before Ethan can bring Isabel forward. Mariposa hasn't even met Isabel, since Isabel has come as a servant and not as a member of the court. 'And we gave false names to your father because, like you told Lancelot at breakfast, we don't think that this man is your true father. We were sent to meet him and then set a trap to capture that man and bring back your real father. The only thing is,' I drag Mariposa's face back to me; she's been gawking at Ethan all this time, but I need her to pay attention to this part in particular. 'The only thing is, we need you to pretend to be asleep so we can wait here for your "father" to show up, so we can get rid of him for you. Do you understand?'

I have to drag Mariposa's head back to face mine before she answers me with a yes. Ethan and I go back to our posts, except once I get back up to the ceiling Ethan ends his illusion of light.

Not even five minutes later, Mariposa whispers, 'Guinevere?'

I roll my eyes and look down at Mariposa, who is pretending to sleep with her eyes scrunched closed. 'Yes, Mariposa?'

'Will you read me a bed-time story?'

I blow a strand of hair back into place on top of my head and whisper, 'I can't do that right now, Mariposa. We all have to be very, very quiet so we can bring your father back. Now relax and go to sleep, and when you wake up and go down to breakfast tomorrow your father will be there to greet you.'

Mariposa smiles and turns over to burrow herself into her blankets, imagining her father coming back. I feel a slight smile creep onto my face, remembering how my father was. I don't think Mariposa ever loved her father—I mean, I never loved my father—I mean, we never loved our father—until we knew what it was like for him to not be there. I know Mariposa probably just wants her father to come back so that everything will return to normal.

'Guinevere?'

I almost groan out loud, but at the last minute I turn the groan into a strained 'Yes, Mariposa?'

'Why did you have a false name when you first came here?'

I think for a few seconds, mentally kicking myself for not having thought of that earlier when I decided to give me and Ethan new names. I really should start thinking about the consequences of my actions before following through with them, but sometimes you just have to act without thinking. If I had thought about what I was going to do before I stepped through the door into the future, I never would have met my soul-mate, would I?

I finally come up with something. '"Guinevere" is my soul's true name. It matches my personality. You don't tell your soul name to just anyone; only the people you can really trust. It's sort of like a nick-name. I don't trust the man impersonating your father," _Nor will I ever trust the man who is truly your father_ I think to myself, 'so I gave him my real name when I met him.'

Mariposa opens her eyes to look up at me excitedly. 'Do _I_ have a soul name thing?' she asks eagerly.

'Yes.' I know what's coming next: she's going to ask me what her soul's name is. But what was I supposed to say, 'No, your soul doesn't have a name, now stop bugging me and pretend to sleep so I can attack some guy that looks like your father'? I couldn't say that! So when Mariposa actually does voice the inevitable question, I have to think hard about what name to give her.

What name have I always wanted my entire life? Definitely a French name, since I have always been uncomfortable with the thought that I will probably be the first French queen to have a Spanish name in all of history. And it has to have a meaning to it to make it special…

'Renate,' I tell her firmly.

Mariposa sticks her tongue out at the name and makes a gagging noise. 'I don't like it!' she complains, sticking her tongue back in her mouth only to pout. 'I want my soul to have a different name!'

I glare down at the spoiled child. Was I ever truly like this? 'Your soul only has one name!' I insist, refusing to think of yet another name on the spot. 'You cannot change it!'

'But why _Renate_?'

'Because _Renate_ means _reborn_,' I explain. 'You are a bright child, Mariposa; you learn quickly, and each new discovery is a revelation to you. Every good experience builds your confidence, and every bad experience teaches you something, until one day you look back on your past and realize just how much you've changed, how it's almost like you've been reborn into something greater that just a spoiled little human child.' I end my increasingly passionate speech, panting slightly from the effort of giving it while maintaining my levitated state and straining my ears for any approaching footsteps.

Mariposa looks up at me as if she can't quite think of what to say, and I give myself a pat on the back for giving such an inspirational speech. But when Mariposa finally thinks of something to say, it isn't congratulations on finding the best possible words for the message I was trying to send, it isn't awe at the meaning of her soul's name, or even a question to Ethan about the honesty of my explanation; in fact, it has absolutely nothing to do with the moral importance of my statement. She asks, in her tiny, hurt, ungrateful voice, 'Am I really spoiled?'

I'm saved from answering this question by the sounds coming from just outside the door: a man barking out an order, and then footsteps fading away into the distance.

I whisper urgently to Mariposa to close her eyes, and the child quickly feigns sleep just before the door opens to admit King Thierry and a woman I haven't met yet. The king and the woman—she must be the nurse, since she is clad in a servant's garb—step into the room and make for the bed. Not even five steps in, Isabel shoves the door of her closet open and drives it into the face of the nurse, knocking the woman unconscious.

Taking in the damage she's done while the king is stunned, Isabel mutters, 'Well, _that_ was anti-climactic.'

King Thierry gets over his surprise quickly, aiming a punch at Isabel's face. Isabel blocks the blow quickly before sending one of her own fists into the man's stomach. The king loses his breath and drops his hands to hold his stomach; it doesn't look like he is in very good shape, almost as if he hasn't exercised in a few years. Why did he come on a mission if he was out of practice?

Ethan rolls out from under the bed and pulls King Thierry's feet out from under him, sending the king toppling to the floor. The recovered nurse jumps onto Ethan's back, trying to get him away from her accomplice, and Isabel goes to pull the woman off of her.

And what am I doing while this spectacular fight is taking place? Comforting a wailing three-year-old. You'd figure having your guardian angel levitate down to protect you would calm a hysterical toddler, but _noooo_. I had to be a difficult child. It's not until Mariposa _finally_ stops crying—an achievement that takes nearly fifteen minutes—that I can finally turn back to pay attention to the completed fight.

The sight of the nurse dead on the floor and King Thierry held at knife-point by Ethan sort of depresses me. I don't know, maybe I just thought that after levitating at Mariposa's ceiling for an hour or so I would actually be able to join in on the battle. I guess not.

'Where is the real King Thierry?' Isabel demands while Ethan holds his dagger to the man's throat.

The man gulps, looking terrified, but shakes his head decidedly. Something tells me he's not going to tell us where my father is.

'Where is King Thierry?' Ethan growls.

The man gasps and, clutching his chest, falls out of Ethan's grasp to lie dead on the floor.

Isabel kicks the wardrobe angrily. 'No!' she screams. 'We came all this way! I had to hide in a closet for an hour! And what happens? _The bad guy dies of a freaking heart attack!_'

'You know,' Ethan says thoughtfully, 'I don't think I've ever had an enemy who died of natural causes on a mission before…'

'Who cares?' I cry out, causing Mariposa to scramble under the covers for safety. 'We have to find the king!'

'Relax, Guinevere,' Ethan says, smiling at his use of my angelic pseudo name.

'Relax? _Relax?_ Lancelot, the king of France is _missing!_ He's _gone!_ And you want me to _relax?_'

'He's not going to be difficult to find,' Isabel says calmly. 'Where did anyone in the middle ages lock people up?'

I blink dumbly. 'Well, if you knew the king was in the dungeons the whole time, then why did you have to go threatening the fake king like that?'

'It's what we do,' Ethan says, wiping his hands as if to swipe away some dirt. 'We beat the bad guys in battle, and then we make them take us to wherever they're hiding this or that important person. Nine times out of ten, we already know where they are. It's just satisfying to rub our victory in the bad guys' faces.'

'Maybe we should stop this conversation,' Isabel says, nodding at the quivering lump that is Mariposa, 'before someone gets scarred for life, and the rest of us get in trouble with the Tribunal.'

'Coralie, she's _three_,' Ethan points out. 'How much information to you remember from when _you _were three?'

'Good point,' Isabel concedes. 'Now let's go get the king!'

I shake my head. 'We don't have to.'

Ethan and Isabel look at me like I have just grown another head. I ignore their strange looks and turn to peel the covers slowly off of Mariposa. 'Princess?' The girl looks up at me trustingly. 'Your father is in the dungeons. Would you like to go see him?'

Mariposa nods her head excitedly and jumps up from the bed, scurrying out of the room before anyone else can say anything.

'Are you sure she'll be okay?' Ethan asks, looking doubtfully at the child's back. 'Does she know the way to the dungeons?'

I shrug. 'She doesn't have to. If she doesn't know the way, she'll stop to ask an adult to show her the way. Once an adult knows that the king is in the dungeon, all sorts of alarms will go off and the whole castle will be woken up to get the king out of the dungeon.'

Isabel is still looking at me doubtfully. 'Are you one-hundred percent sure?' she asks.

I blink. 'What is a percent?'

'Never mind. _Arkarian!_'


	42. Chapter Fortyone: Ethan

_Author's Note: Okay, I know this isn't my best chapter, but I was trying to get something out to you ASAP because of the promise I broke when I last updated... (thanks for reminding me, Brindabot! remind me toget on your case the next time YOU try to write through depression, three failing classes, homework, AP week, EOCT's, an incredibly insert bad word here> sister and father, and a whole bunch of lies that you have to try to sort through before you can convince your father to tell the truth about that insert INCREDIBLY bad word here> he's dating! hm, that last sentence sounds a bit aggressive... I'm not mad at you! Just a little overwhelmed, that's all!)_

_I hope you like what I have posted though, because it is the beginning of the end. I know I said that about ten chapters ago, but I promise it's true this time! And I hope you like the idea I present in this chapter... combining my favorite book with my favorite legend! Yay! Anywho, just read and then press that nice, shiny blue button that says 'Review'... you know you want to! If you don't talk to me about my writing, then I can't get any better!_**

* * *

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**Chapter Forty-one: Ethan**

When we arrive back at the Citadel, Arkarian is waiting for us. I don't know if it's the horribly disappointed look in his violet eyes, the way his shoulders are sagging, or the way he's bowing down before Renate as if she was the queen of England, but something tells me we messed up somehow.

'Your Majesty,' Arkarian says, never looking up at Renate's confused face; instead, he is looking at the ground just in front of her feet.

'"Majesty"?' Renate asks, confused about the new title; 'majesty' is only ever used to address the king or the queen of a nation, and the last I checked, Renate was still only a princess.

I suddenly feel my stomach drop, and the empty space it's left behind it filled with a potent feeling of dread. Something is _definitely_ wrong.

Arkarian continues as if he had never been interrupted. 'I would like to congratulate you on your marriage.'

Renate and I both freeze, neither one of us able to think of anything to say to this. How can Renate be married? We're not married yet, and she never told me she was married! Didn't she tell me that her father used to put her together with every lord who looked at her twice?

And then it hits me: _her father!_

'We saved her father!' I protest, determined to prove that Arkarian's information is wrong. 'We sent Mariposa off to the dungeons to set him free!'

Arkarian shakes his head. 'By the time she had reached her father,' he explains solemnly, 'the king was dead. Shortly after giving birth to a daughter, the queen killed herself out of grief, leaving Princess Mariposa as the only heir to the throne. She was quickly married off to Prince Arthur of Wales, who re-named the new queen Guinevere, as was the custom in this time period.' Arkarian adds that last bit when he sees the shocked look on my face, the one expressing my disbelief that a husband could actually _re-name_ his wife. 'The two never produced any heirs, since Guinevere came to see Arthur as more of a father-figure than as a husband. However, according to history, Guinevere was discovered with a paramour one evening, and after a quick duel between the paramour and King Arthur, the knight took off with the queen, and neither of them was ever seen again.'

I gulp. 'What was the paramour's name?' I ask.

Arkarian looks at me as if I was crazy. 'Ethan!' he reprimands. 'I should think that answer would be obvious! Honestly! How many years were you my Apprentice?'

It's the sort of thing I would usually laugh at. Unfortunately, I can't laugh about much when my soul-mate is married, let alone to the most legendary king of all time. The most legendary king of all time, who, if the stories are correct, I am to befriend and then betray, all for Renate.

All for Guinevere.


	43. Chapter Fortytwo: Ethan

**Chapter 42: Ethan**

I know I should probably do something to let Renate know that at least I'm alive, but it's just so darn difficult to open my eyes! It's like they're glued shut or something. Actually, I think I've just had them shut for too long. And really, all I want to do right now is just lie down and rest.

Of course, that's exactly what I have been doing for the past few hours. Or maybe it's been days; I really don't know, because for a lot of that time I have been floating in and out of consciousness. I guess taking your physical body six hundred years into the past can really cause some major jetlag. This is the first time I've ever been aware of someone else's presence in the room, though: two voices, one Renate's and the other Arkarian's, are arguing.

'Majesty, you have been in this healing chamber for three mortal hours! It would be best if you returned to your body and came back later!'

'I'm not leaving Eth… Lancelot alone.'

'Who _is_ this Lancelot, Highness?'

'Arkarian, I'm not Queen!'

'Yes you are! I don't care how much time has changed, you must get used to that fact. Remember that part of your job in the Guard is to live as though time never changes.'

'_I know!_'

'Then _please_, Majesty: return to your body at least for now. Wake your body up and go about your life for a few hours and then take a nap and come back here. If you stay here too long you could give away your position in the Guard.'

'I don't care! I'm not leaving Lancelot alone until he's well enough to come back with me!'

I hear a sigh, and then Arkarian's voice: 'Highness, you know as well as I do that this man might not live at all if he doesn't wake up soon. And even then, we don't know how long it will take for him to recover.'

'But he _will_ recover.'

There are some noises, as if one of them is sitting down; probably Renate, since medieval etiquette forbids anyone from sitting in the presence of royalty unless said royalty invited said anyone to take a seat.

'Majesty, _who is Lancelot?_ Where did he come from? Where were you in that time when we couldn't find you?'

Apparently Renate still hasn't told Arkarian anything; she's probably waiting for me to wake up and explain everything. Maybe I should open my eyes now… but I just don't _want_ to! I'm partially scared to move any of my muscles; I haven't moved anything since taking my body back through time—_twice_… something I will _never_ do again—and I don't want to if it is going to cause as much pain as I felt then. I hope the healers were able to get rid of the boils and heal the splits in my skin; when I took King Richard to the future, they had trouble healing him, so the thought of how well the healers from the past can help me makes me want to shudder.

I grit my teeth as that attempt to quell a shudder fails, and the muscles in my back convulse from the thought of leeching and other primitive forms of medicine being applied to my body…

'Ethan?'

I feel Renate at my side, taking my hand in hers. Arkarian gasps in when he sees my hand in hers, and I realize that now would probably be the best time to wake up.

I open my eyes but immediately shut them again; the room is such a bright white that it probably doesn't need any light to keep the room illuminated. A groan rumbles in the back of my throat, and I bring a hand back to rub the side of my head, which has started to ache. Maybe I should start carrying a bottle of Tylenol with me… I seem to be getting hurt a lot these days. Of course, if I wanted to start that habit then I should have thought of it _before_ I left home to go live in the thirteenth century.

'Ethan, are you okay?'

'I thought his name was Lancelot…'

'It is!'

'But you just called him Ethan!'

'It's… it's complicated.'

This time when I open my eyes, I keep them open. They water at the sudden brightness, but I am determined to help Renate fix the situation.

I look down at my body to check for damage, since the only real pain that's bothering me is that annoying headache. It surprises me that Renate is even allowed in the room with me, because my shirt has been taken off! Well, I guess it's not so scandalous because my whole chest, stomach, and left arm are covered in rough, yellowish bandages. My whole lower half has been covered by a blanket, so I can't see the damage to my legs and waist. I try to remember where the worst of my injuries appeared, but I know I blacked out sometime while we were still in Atlantis. The only one I can remember clearly is a long bloody gash opening along my chest and down to my stomach. I remember a lot of angry purple boils opening and bursting too.

They must have given me some really powerful drugs to get rid of the pain!

I sit up, leaning back on the ridiculous number of pillows I remember Renate demanding that someone bring earlier on, and look up at a teary-eyed Renate and a politely guarded Arkarian.

I think it's when I see Arkarian that it fully hits me: I'm not back at home. My best friend Arkarian would never look at me with as much suspicion as this one is, at least not _serious_ suspicion, at least. Seeing the image of my best friend looking at me with such distrust does something inside me, giving me a feeling almost like homesickness. Maybe it was a mistake to come here.

Immediately, Renate throws herself on me. With her added weight, I can feel what has healed on my torso, and one of those _isn't_ the gigantic gash on my chest. I gently ease Renate off of me, for the comfort of both me and Arkarian.

Once his queen has relinquished her hold on me, Arkarian steps forward and asks, 'Who are you and what is your standing?'

I give Arkarian what has to be a funny look; the Arkarian I know would never be this impatient for information! He would normally wait for the person to completely heal before interrogating them. And he would usually at least _pretend_ to have more trust in them than this, not asking whether a person was a Guardian of Time or a Soldier of the Order until he was pretty sure he knew the answer for himself. I guess patience and interrogation skills come with time.

I shake my memories out of my head and answer, 'My true name is Ethan Roberts: Master of Animation for the Guard, and occasional Trainer.'

Arkarian's eyes—sapphire blue! They're sapphire blue!—close slightly, forming slits of suspicion. 'We have no Master of Animation. No one has yet been able to achieve that position. Where did you come from?'

This information blows me, and I have to ask, 'No one's ever earned the title of Master of Animation since the Guard was formed?' When Arkarian doesn't answer, I start to wonder why his older counterpart never told me this; Arkarian usually tells me whenever I make history! Well, I guess making history isn't exactly highly rated on the WOW! scale… Anyway, the older Arkarian _did_ tell me that I was going to have to tell everyone—at least everyone in the Guard—the truth about my background. 'I come from Veridian.'

Renate pulls a double-take. 'I thought you said that city was called Angel Falls!'

I look sharply at Renate, almost wanting to smack my forehead at her slip. 'That's what the city is called,' I add quickly, before Arkarian can say anything. 'It is built directly over the ancient city of Veridian.'

For a moment there is silence, and then Arkarian shakes his head. 'It is impossible,' he insists. 'No one knows where Veridian is. It has not been seen since the ancients left centuries—maybe even millennia—ago. Some even think that the city is a myth, a last beacon of hope to keep the Guard going. This lack of faith in the Guard has lead to the defection of many of its members.'

It's my turn to shake my head. 'How can you not know where Veridian is?' I demand. 'What about all of that technology? What about _the Prophecy?_'

'The Prophecy is _known_ to be a myth. No one questions this.'

I stare at Arkarian. How can _Arkarian_ of all people not believe in the _Prophecy?_ It's _Arkarian!_ There are no words to describe my shock! Just… how can Arkarian not believe in the Prophecy! He's _in_ the Prophecy!

'You're wrong,' I reply in a hard voice. 'The Prophecy is real. I've seen it; I've _lived_ it.'

'You cannot have lived it if it is not real, especially since the Order is still very much alive.'

'No! Listen to me: the Prophecy is real, it's true, it's coming! You _have_ to believe me!'

'Why should I? You have given me no reason to trust you.'

'_ARKARIAN!_' I want to cry. I really do. I haven't cried since Rochelle's death, but now I want to. How can this Arkarian, only five hundred years younger than my Arkarian, really, not believe me? How can he be so different at 45 than what he is at 600? '_You HAVE to believe me! The Prophecy is real!_' How can I make him believe without giving too much about the future away? '_I'm from the future; that's where I came from! That's why I have lived through the Prophecy even though the Order is still alive here; in my time, the Order is gone! We've even defeated Lathenia's child!_'

'_Lathenia has no child!_'

'_In the future she does!_'

All eyes turn to Renate, whose words have frozen Arkarian.

'I was there when they defeated her,' Renate continues. 'That's where I was when you couldn't find me; I did something to the Sphere and ended up in Ethan's time, sometime six hundred years from now, after Lathenia is gone. You are there! You and Ethan are both there, along with Matt and Jimmy and Shaun and Neriah and Dillon and Isa—!'

I lean over to quickly clamp a hand over Renate's mouth before she can give away Isabel, or her significance to Arkarian's life. Knowing Renate, she would have given everything away right then and there if I hadn't stopped her.

'_YOU!_'

All attention is jerked away from Renate and to a newcomer: a woman with pale blonde curls held in a messy bun and clad in the traditional Athenian robes. Even if I hadn't seen the silver belt and sunny robe—symbolizing the wearer's status as a HealingMaster—I would have recognized the Beckett brown eyes anywhere.

'Isabel,' I croak.

'_You never said good-bye!_'

'Didn't Mom give you the message?'

Isabel comes over and punches me in my bandaged arm, sending waves of pain shooting up towards my shoulder. '_That's not the same!_' she screeches at me.

Arkarian looks on the verge of laughter. 'Is this your wife?' he asks me, seeming to finally believe that I come from the future. 'I thought it was odd that the healer refused to heal you completely…'

Isabel looks at Arkarian, stunned. '_His_ wife?' she asks, now using her indoor voice. 'You think I'm _his_ wife?' She snorts, and suddenly Isabel is doubling up in laughter. In her hysteria, she somehow finds the energy to hand me something: a folded up piece of paper. When she's able to, she manages to explain, 'It's a message from the gang. I was sent to give it to you, since YOU apparently weren't going to say good-bye to US. Unless you want to send a response… I can stay for as long as it takes you to write one, regardless of _my husband's_ orders to return home immediately.' She falls into an even bigger fit of laughter. 'And speaking of _my husband_, he sends his regards.' Laughing, Isabel leaves the room to go… do whatever it is she has to do. She's probably already seen the Tribunal, and they're probably taking advantage of her presence by having her work overtime in the healing chambers.

Arkarian watches Isabel leave with a strange expression on his face. He seems to be trying to remember something, but I have no clue what it is. I don't think Isabel has ever used this form before, or if she has, I don't remember it. It's a pretty generic form, as well: plaited blonde hair about the same shade as white wine, pale skin not uncommon for castle servants, and her usual dark brown eyes. She looks just like any fifteenth century servant, even if her entrance was a little eccentric.

Finally, something seems to snap into place behind Arkarian's eyes. He turns to look at me with a thoughtful expression on his face, reminding me of his future self.

'You called her Isabel?' Arkarian asks slowly.

Hell! I try to think of something else I could have called my friend… Isandre? Isadore? Isaboy? I can't suppress a shudder when I think of Isabel's reaction if she discovered I had told Arkarian that her name was Isaboy…

Why did Isabel have to have a name that starts with 'I'! It's too unique! What am I supposed to do now? Go along with this? Lie? No… if I am going to live in this time period for the rest of my life, I am not going to start off by lying to a friend.

I slowly move my head up and down to affirm Arkarian's suspicions, wondering what effect this is going to have on the future. Maybe Arkarian won't remember the name. After all, six hundred years is a long time!

Arkarian thinks for a second and then asks to be reminded, 'She was with you when you last visited this time period, wasn't she?'

I smile. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing. It got Arkarian to believe me, after all.

'So you believe me now?'

Arkarian's mouth twitches, something completely unlike the Arkarian from this time period. So far, the younger Arkarian has not hesitated to display his emotions, yet now he is carefully keeping his thoughts to himself?

'It seems I have no choice.'

'Wait a second…' I push myself up higher in my bed, ignoring the quick stab of pain that slices up my chest. 'You don't believe _me_, but you believe _her?_'

Arkarian looks stunned, as if he didn't even notice this himself. He blinks his eyes twice, a blush starting to form on his face. 'She's different.'

To Renate's surprise—and disapproval—I burst out into laughter.

'From your reaction, can I guess that she has some significance in my life?'

The laughter dies.

Renate gives me a look that plainly says, _This is why you don't go laughing people like that!_

I roll my eyes at my soul-mate as if to respond, _Well NOW I know that, don't I?_

_Well why didn't you know it before?_

_You expect ME to know that sort of thing?_

Two voices, one male and one female, raise up in sudden frustration. 'YES!'

Renate looks at Arkarian carefully, only to have the other man give her a look meaning something similar to, _Hello? Remember me? Mr. Truthseer?_

Once Renate seems to have gotten the message, Arkarian turns back to me. 'So then… what does she—?'

'Before you ask,' I quickly interject, 'Your future self has forbidden me from telling you anything having to do with your life.'

'But why would I do that? That's so mean!'

This time Renate joins me in laughter, although I'm not so sure she's laughing at the same thing as I.

* * *

_Dear Ethan,_

_You owe me! Do you have any idea how angry everyone is at me for helping you to leave without saying good-bye? And of course none of them believes me when I tell them that I advised you to make your farewells; they only focus on my sending you back in time without telling them. _

_While everyone is mad at me, Isabel seems to have enough anger for more than one person; she seems to blame not only me, but also your parents. She's angry at them for not warning her that you were leaving, although she says she understands why you said good-bye to your mother. However, that fact does not seem to save Laura from Isabel's rage of doom. _

_That's why I have sent her to deliver this message; she obviously needs some closure from the loss of her best friend, and probably some pay-back as well. DON'T WORRY: she delivered our child, Ailen Bakana, about a month ago, so Isabel can't hurt herself trying to heal or kill you. I'll let Isabel tell you more about our little girl, but be warned: once the conversation starts, Isabel will not end it until you have ceded that Ailen is the most wonderful child to ever come into life. Also, if Isabel ever starts to mention Malaika, it would be a good time to end the conversation by any means possible. Even if you have to physically distract her, it will be kinder than to let her continue. _

_Well, this letter is turning out different from how I had intended it. Let me backtrack a bit…_

_I hope you find happiness in your life with Renate. You know I won't tell you what history has in store for you—and I know that you would not want me to tell you if I would… admit it!—but I truly do wish you all the best. I meant what I said before you left, you know: in all my years on Earth, you have been the best friend I have ever had. Life here will be—or, rather, has been—different without you. Although I'm sure that if you were here, you would find things to be boring and would laugh at us for our melancholy. _

_Dillon has started to take off on his own. I think that you were one of his only connections to the Named, since Matt moved to Athens. He has been taking on more missions without us, and has even started visiting the mountain less often. Shaun says that this is because he has found a new girlfriend, but we both know how this is destined to end. When I asked Dillon if there was anything he wanted me to tell you in this letter, he said to say that you had better enjoy yourself or he would come back and force you to enjoy yourself. _

_Shaun and Laura both wish you all the best, although you probably knew that already from your farewells. Shaun has recently retired to spend more time with Laura, who has just been Initiated. She says she wishes you were here to be her Trainer, although I think she and Shaun are doing fine on their own. _

_Wonderful news for Jimmy: he and Coral have just recently married! Well, to be more accurate, they eloped. Don't worry, everyone knew they were going to get married; it wasn't as if they up and left us without warning. No, Dartemis insisted that if Jimmy was going to marry his soul-mate, then he was going to be the one officiating. And since there was no way that Dartemis could be a part of the ceremony if it took place in Angel Falls, Jimmy convinced Coral to run away to Sydney to get married. I don't know how Dartemis truly feels about the marriage, since Jimmy's original purpose for living with Coral was to protect Matt and Isabel, but it seems that Jimmy truly does love Coral, and vice versa. _

_Matt and Neriah promise to try to keep anyone from randomly visiting you, although I'm not sure how that will work out. Although Neriah says that they will all be there for your wedding whether you like it or not, and, knowing her, she's probably going to insist on being there for all of your special moments (i.e., the births of your children—not that you're going to have any). And Matt says that you had better continue your training with the sword, because he might just come to test you on your skills once in a while. Don't count on him to hold to this promise, though; as one of the Tribunal, Matt is extremely limited in what he can and cannot do to visit you. It would seem unfair for him to make frequent visits to the past to visit an old friend. _

_And now I seem to have run out of things to say. I'm just letting my pen run across the paper as it will, writing whatever comes into my mind to say. I want to say something along the lines of 'I'll see you later!', but I know that I can't. What does one say at the end of a final correspondence between men who have lived almost like brothers? I don't know what to say. My mind is completely blank, although that of Isabel, who is sitting next to me, is buzzing with activity. She knows exactly what to say, although I am definitely not going to say it. If she wants you to hear it, she can tell you when she sees you. _

_Goodbye, Ethan. I love you, everyone loves you, and we all wish you perfect happiness. Tell Renate that we wish her a wonderful life as well, although no one is particularly worried about that since she is with you. I know you'll take care of yourself. Everyone misses you, including me. Goodbye. _

_Your family,_

_Arkarian, Isabel, Matt, Neriah, Laura, Shaun, Dillon, Jimmy

* * *

_

'You know,' Isabel says thoughtfully, looking down at my bandaged torso. 'I _could_ heal that large, painful gash across your chest… but I think I'll let that sit a while.' She moves down my body and yanks the warm blankets rudely off of my to start unraveling the bandages wrapped around my right ankle.

'Isabel!' I gasp, wrapping my arms around myself for protection against the cold. 'Please! If you're not going to heal it, then please kill off some of the nerves so it doesn't hurt so much!'

'You want me to kill off some nerves?' Isabel asks with raised eyebrows, looking up from her task. ''Cause I can do that if you want me to. I really have no problem with it.'

Wow. Arkarian wasn't exaggerating when he said Isabel needed some closure. Although from the way he described it, I would have thought Isabel was in tears over my departure, balling her eyes out over the loss of her best friend and former Trainer. I guess Isabel's form of grieving is somewhat different from everyone else's.

But I guess she only hurts those she cares for… Although I'm not really feeling much love right now. Unless you want to define love as acupuncture.

Seriously: Isabel is sticking needles into my upper ankle right now!

'What in the worlds are you doing?'

Isabel looks up at me with innocent eyes. 'I thought you wanted me to kill off some of the nerves…'

I glare at the madwoman trying malevolently to heal my poor body. 'Do you plan on doing this to Ailen every time she gets a boo-boo?'

'Oh, so you've heard about Ailen?' Isabel grins excitedly, jumping to sit on the bed. Pain throbs in my leg from the needles that Isabel has conveniently left stuck into the muscles. 'Isn't she the cutest little girl you've ever seen? And she's so smart, too, she already knows her colors! Well, not really; but she can point to colors! Although Arkarian says she's not really pointing at the colors so much as she's pointing at things she wants, but I don't think so. After all, why would she point to her bear when I asked her what her favorite color was? _Because the bear is brown!_ Her favorite color is brown! Isn't that awesome? It really shows how unique she is, since no other babies ever like the color brown. In fact, I don't think any other babies even have a favorite color! So that makes her all the more—!'

'Isabel,' I say with a grin, 'You're giving me a headache.'

'But isn't she smart? And cute? Come on, you have to admit she's smart. And she's so adorable! She has Arkarian's brown hair—although it took me forever to figure out where she got brown hair from, until I remembered Arkarian's original hair color!—and my brown eyes, although they're not really _my_ brown eyes; they're hers. And she has the cutest little laugh! You should hear her laugh, Ethan, she's so wonderful and sweet!'

'So I've heard,' I laugh. 'But what happened to the name Mackenzie?'

Isabel snorts. 'Did you really think I was going to go ahead and name my daughter Mackenzie, Ethan? You should know me better! I mean, sure, I love the name Mackenzie, but there's no way I can let my daughter be a product of fate.'

'So you named her Ailen?'

'Ailen Bakana. Ailen means "ember" and Bakana means "guardian", because she's going to be one of the most talented Guards to ever live.'

'After me, of course.'

Isabel gives me a deadly look that makes me laugh, and eventually Isabel realizes that I was joking. Seven months without me and she's already grown unused to my sense of humor?

'So,' I start when our laughter has died down, 'do you think this will affect the future at all?'

'The fact that I changed her name? Of course not!' Isabel smiles, looking lost in her memories. 'You would love her, Ethan. Especially her laugh. Have I told you how adorable her laugh is? I never thought anything could be so…'

'Adorable?'

Score! Yet another deadly glare.

Wait, where did these tears come from? No! No tears! Stop!

'Isabel?' I sit up straighter and touch her shoulder gently, only to have her slump into my chest suddenly wracked with sadness. I groan through the pain, wondering what could have happened to work _Isabel_ up this badly. 'Isabel? What happened?'

It seems as if Isabel isn't able to talk for the longest time; she keeps crying into my chest as if it's the last solid thing she has in all the worlds, and it makes me wonder if everything between her and Arkarian is really okay. The last time I saw them, they were wonderfully in love, but I've heard that children can change the relationship between a husband and wife.

Apparently that's not it though; when Isabel is finally able to speak, it's to utter one phrase: '_Malaika…_'

* * *

_Author's Note: I'm back! Hola hola, everyone! I know a lot of you are probably angry with me (I'm almost scared to post this chapter... hides) but I've been getting so many reviews about not posting in so long! And I want to let you know that ONE OF THE REASONS (as in, not the only one, but just one) I didn't post was because I couldn't; my internet was completely out! We just got our internet back last week, and the reason I haven't posted since then is because it seemed as if GOD didn't want me to post this chapter! Every time I would type something up, my computer would shut down or there would be a problem with Word so that it would have to close before I could save it, so it wasn't until today that fate seemed to cooperate with me and allowed me to post this chapter. _

_Also: Arkarian's reaction to Isabel (the whole thing about not showing his thoughts on his sleeve) is sort of like an advertisement for my next novel-length fanfic. I haven't started writing it yet, but I have an idea for it and I just have to fine-tune it and as soon as this fic is done I will start working on it. _

_I hope you all enjoyed the younger version of Arkarian (he seemed popular in previous chapters!). I had a lot of fun with him here, so I hope you all like him!_

_Yours truly,  
NCCjellybean_


	44. Chapter Fortythree: Renate

**Chapter Forty-three: Renate**

If this wasn't real, I would be fascinated at how my life has changed since my childhood dream for my father to die has been fulfilled. Now, though, it's terrifying. Powerful new memories invade my mind with each new encounter—whether it is made through sight, hearing, touch, or even smell—almost to the point of driving out my old memories. As it is, the way my life used to be now seems like a dream that I can recall only faintly.

But right now, that's not the only thing that scares me; I am about the meet my husband for the first time, although we have apparently been married for years. It's so strange to think that I have had all of the experiences of a married woman—a wedding, consummation, and maybe even _children!_—and yet I don't recall any of them. The scariest thought is that I have actually slept with this man, but I don't know anything more than his name.

I start to wonder who my friends and enemies are as I begin to dress into the gown the servant, Henka, provided me when I awoke an hour ago. Henka, always concerned that I might have conceived an heir, made me eat some fruit in bed before she would allow me to even shift positions. Apparently, if I have had any children, they have all been girls.

The sound of a door opening makes me instinctively reach for the blankets to cover my naked body. Whoever has just entered the room laughs and, closing the door behind him, comments on my modesty.

"I would have thought we were beyond that at this point, Guinevere."

It strikes me that this man is Arthur, the man I am now married to. As he steps closer, I try to find something about him that will trigger a memory. Brown hair falls in waves to rest on broad, cotton-covered shoulders. A square jaw is covered by more light brown stubble, the beginnings of a beard. An aristocratic nose sits between two slightly slanted, dove grey eyes that are set maybe seven centimeters higher than my own green ones.

I remove the blanket, instantly comforted by Arthur's presence. His inner spring of confidence removes all trace of anxiety, as it always does.

"Well then," I begin responding, "I guess I'll just have to get dressed, then, my lord." I reach for the green, woolen gown that I had abandoned on the floor. The dress is Arthur's favorite, because he says that the color matches my eyes perfectly. It is the same dress that I wore to our wedding feast, directly after our coronation. I know that Arthur can rarely resist me whenever I wear this gown, so it is with deliberate slowness that I pull it onto my body.

Arthur hesitates for a second, knowing what I am doing. After a few awkward seconds in which he watches me dress, he nods.

"You should," he affirms. "We have a visitor who says he knows you from France." Arthur smiles, knowing that this news will delight me.

I return the smile. "What is his name, my lord?"

The name that Arthur gives me seems to have some importance somewhere in my mind, for it seems like something I should remember. But I left France at such an early age that I don't remember many people other than Arkarian, who came with me when I moved to Wales to marry Arthur.

I shake my head as I step into Arthur's embrace, now fully dressed. "I can't say that this man does not know me," I whisper. Arthur kisses me softly, watching my inner struggle to remember. "But as for me, I have no memory of this Lancelot."

* * *

_Author's Note: Yeah, I know it's short, but you have to look past that! The shortness is part of this chapter. Look beyond it... to the story within... zzz...zzz..._

_OK, now I'm probably going to get a lot of reviews complaining that Renate, my own OC, is acting OOC. So before you hit that REVIEW button, please think like the smart people I know you are and think about the fact that I maybe... WANTED... to have Renate be OOC in this chapter... and maybe a few more chapters in the future... for a specific reason that I am not going to reveal, because that is up to you... I am loving all of this vague-ness... not really, but that's okay... I'm the author, so I can do whatever I want, right?... well, unless I want all of my wonderful reviewers running at me with hatchets and other various types of pointy objects... that could hurt... a lot... zzz...zzz...zzz...  
_

_Thanks to RoseZephyr for beta-ing this chapter for me, both now and when I originally wrote it a couple weeks ago! (I wrote it a while ago, but then I lost it, and last night it turned up under my bed... XP)_


	45. Chapter Fortyfour: Ethan

**Chapter Forty-four: Ethan**

So far, it doesn't seem as if anything in history has changed much. At least not in the history of _this_ country. I haven't seen France yet, and I know the French have a tendency to have the bloodiest of revolutions.

That's probably the only thing I am having trouble adjusting to so far: the fact that I am in Wales. For as long as I've known her, I have always thought of Renate as being from France… and yet here I am, in her past, and I'm in Wales. I've already dealt with all of my other qualms—like the fact that some dirty pedophilic king has _his_ wedding band on _my_ soul-mate. Surprisingly, it doesn't take very long to get over the worst of life's little surprises… even if they are so disappointing that they make you want to rip curl up in a corner and wait another millennium before finally crawling from your cave of self-pity and actually deal with the situation. Really, the whole situation isn't all that bad.

Maybe it's just me being me, but this all seems just a little _too_ easy… Things like this—going back in time to marry my soul-mate and live with her until the end of our days—don't usually go according to plan, at least not in _my_ experience. So why does everything seem to be going off perfectly? It all seems a little too easy…

"Sir Lancelot!"

I turn to see King Soul-Mate-Stealer and his beloved wife, Queen Guinevere (also known as My Soul-Mate) entering the study in which I had been told to wait for them.

"Where did you say you hail from, again?"

I give Renate a look, as if to ask her what's with all the sudden suspicion, but she only returns it with a polite smile.

I make my bows and respond, "My lord, I come from Her Majesty's homeland. We grew up together in Paris." Seeing Renate's slight frown, I ask her, "Do you not remember me, Highness?" When Renate shakes her head, I know something is wrong. "I used to call you by your nickname: Renate."

Renate looks at me in wonder for a quick second before making the expression behind that hideously polite smile. I try to capture her eyes with mine, hoping that if she can see into my soul then she will remember something of me, but Renate demurely bows her head, as if to thwart a forward action.

Idiot! I need to remember that, even though I remember a million intimate moments with Renate, she has never lived through them! She doesn't even know who I am… but then again, do I even know who she is? What if this Renate—the Renate who never went into the future, and therefore has no memory of me—is different from the Renate that I love? Is she still my soul-mate? Am I going to have to get to know her all over again? What if—?

"Sir Lancelot!" says King Arthur urgently. "Are you sure you are well?"

I look over at Renate, whose face now displays open concern. I realize that, in all of my panic, I have started to hyperventilate.

I swallow quickly and smile. "Forgive me, my lord," I begin. "It is just… I did not expect, after coming such a long way, that my old friend would not remember her childhood companion."

If Renate's personality has altered at all, it's not by much; as I had predicted, Renate immediately opens her mouth to console me. "Sir Lancelot, you must remember that I left France at a very young age… I probably do remember you; your name does seem to shake some significance… I just don't have many memories at all from when I was a small child, and I'm pretty certain that most of the ones I do have are, at least in some part, the fantasy of a young girl. How many memories do you have, good sir, of when you were four years old?"

My mouth twitches, and I decide that I will answer this question with complete honesty. "I remember watching my older sister murdered by a monster of a man. I remember meeting the man who would train me for years to become the warrior I am today. I remember my father…" My voice chokes off as I remember what my father was like in the first few months after Sera's death, but then I realize that my voice is not the only item affected in this room; King Arthur and Queen Guinevere are also looking at me with open expressions of shock and surprise. I realize my mistake and quickly mutter an apology to the monarchs.

"No, it's fine." I look up to see Renate still staring at me, only now her face seems to have a quality about it that I find difficult to describe… Her green eyes are slightly confused, as if they are trying to think back to some half-forgotten dream. Bits of black hair are blown awry by a wind carried in through one of the many windows, framing Renate's face with their soft strands. Her lower lip is pulled in slightly, as if she is trying hard not to bite down on it.

King Arthur coughs, reminding me and Renate that we have been staring at each other for longer than is proper. Shifting his weight, he asks nonchalantly, "So, you were friends back in France? How does your family, with you gone?"

I laugh, trying to break the tension that has filled the room. "Majesty, my family is very well, thank you. My father and mother were a bit hesitant to let me go, but in the end they decided that if I felt my calling in Wales, then I should go with God."

King Arthur relaxes. "So you are a religious man, then?"

I hesitate. Dartemis counts as a god, right? "A very religious man, my lord."

Smiles are traded between husband and wife; a religious man is a moral man, and a moral man would not trick his monarchs.

"Well, then," King Arthur says, sounding very much reassured, "I shall have to leave you two alone, then, to let you catch up on old times. I must go attend to the state of my kingdom."

"Of course, Your Majesty…" I murmur, trying very hard to ignore the good-bye kiss Renate is sharing with King Soul-Mate Stealer.

Of course, she isn't so sweet as soon as King Soul-Mate Stealer is out of the room with the door closed behind him.

"Who do you think you are?" Renate accuses quickly. "Who are you, really? What are you doing here? How did you know about the name Renate?"

Under such a verbal assault, it takes me a moment to get my bearings. As soon as the whirlwind in my head dies down, though, I ask, "Isn't Renate your pet name, Majesty?"

"I have no pet name!"

I pause. "Are you absolutely certain that you have never been called by that name before?"

Renate glares at me, fuming. "If you must know," she pants, "the night my father was killed, I dreamt that an angel came to me and told me that I would marry the most wonderful man in all the land."

"And that angel's name was Guinevere, correct? She was accompanied by her partner, whose name was—coincidentally—the same as mine. They were undercover as your playmate and her husband, Lady Ouida and Lord Arnaud. You might even remember their servant being present, although they only said her name maybe once in your presence: Coralie?"

Renate stops. She's making that same, indescribable face; thinking back, trying to recall if everything I've said is true. I wait patiently for all of the puzzle pieces to fit together, but when they finally do, all I get in thanks is a slap across the face.

"_Who are you?_" Renate cries, bringing her hand back as if she has surprised herself with this action.

I let everything out, as if I have been waiting for this moment to come. "Renate, it's me: it's Ethan! Don't you remember me? You have to remember me! Remember Isabel? Remember Dillon, and Dartemis, and Matt, Neriah, Jimmy, Shaun, and _everyone_? Remember… remember cars? Computers? Remember lawyers, streetlights, cell phones, electricity, bathrooms—oh, God, Renate, please tell me you remember bathrooms! Tell me you remember _anything!_"

Tears are streaming down my face, and I think this is scaring Renate even more. I would stop them if I could, but right now the thought of my one and only soul-mate never remembering me, added onto the stress of leaving home to bring my body six hundred years into the past, reading the good-bye letter from my family and friends and the thought of writing them back, and just _everything else_, it's all finally steaming itself slowly out of my body. I am helpless to stop it, and that adds to my frustration, building on further until all I can do is wish that some part of my speech has made its way into the depths of Renate's memory and miraculously triggered something that will allow us to go back to the way we used to be—to candlelit dinners on beautiful illusionary nights; to hesitant yet passionate kisses; even to constant explanations of what things are and how they work.

Renate is crying as well, but her tears are more panicked than anything else. How did I manage to get her so worked up in such a short amount of time? How long has it even been since King Arthur walked out of the room and left us alone? Should I just leave now, and go back to the future where I belong? But then how will I be able to live without Renate? How will I be able to live as if I had never met her?

I can't… Somehow, I must convince her that everything I say is true.

"Please," I beg desperately. "Please… You're an Apprentice in the Guard, training under Arkarian… Your skills are levitation and magnetism, although you might not have discovered your ability to levitate yet… You went into the future, where we met… We met, and we fell in love! We're _soul-mates!_"

"No!" Renate gasps. "No, no, no, no…"

"None of this ever happened! None of this was ever supposed to happen! Your father was supposed to live that night, and you were supposed to have a miserable childhood so that you could grow up to go on your first mission to retrieve the Sphere from Atlantis and meet me, and then I could save your life and therefore discover that we are meant to be together forever!"

"No!" For a moment I start to think that this is all hopeless, and that all Renate is capable of saying right now is that one word: no. But then she continues, softly: "Leave! Go! Go back to wherever you come from… Atlantis, or the future, or wherever! Go back to _whomever_ you left behind! Go _now_, and leave me alone!"

"Renate—!"

"_Don't call me that!_"

Something inside of me breaks, and I know that I have gone too far. I can tell by the way that Renate is refusing to look at me—_covering her eyes_—that I have lost any chance of getting her back. She's gone…

She's gone…

She's…

She's… gone…

… And it's all my fault.

I take a deep, shuddering breath in. I let it out slowly, and then take in one more. I continue to do this until I know that when I open my mouth to speak, I won't be tripping over my words.

"I beg your pardon, Queen Guinevere… I'll take my leave of you, and then you will never have to see me again."

I take my last bow, but I never take my eyes off of Guinevere. I need to fill my vision with her; take in every last inch of her; photocopy her image into my brain so that when I go back home I can look deep inside myself and look back at the woman I love whenever I want.

I step forward, reaching out to take her hand to kiss it, as is the custom in this era… or is it the Restoration that this custom begins? I don't really know, and I don't really care. All I know is that when I reach out to take the hand of the woman I love, she pulls away…

… And I suddenly find myself grabbing her hand to yank her into my embrace, with my lips dancing across hers. Guinevere struggles, fighting against my hold, but I keep my arms around her so that she is unable to escape. I can taste her tears mingling with my own as they glide down her cheeks towards her chin; I can feel the sobs racking her body.

What am I doing? Am I one step from _raping_ a major historical figure? It's obvious that this woman is doing her best to get away from me, wants nothing to do with me… but I can't get enough of her.

Eventually I am able to overcome my own selfishness, pulling my body reluctantly away from Guinevere's. We're both shivering: her from fear, and me from the effort of self-control.

I gulp. "Forgive me, Your Majesty…." I turn to go.


	46. Chapter Fortyfive: Renate

**Chapter 45: Renate**

One more deep breath and I'm ready to try again.

Arthur waits patiently, his big hands cradling my head, his thumbs tracing the tear tracks on my face. He is the kindest man I have ever known; the only man I have ever loved.

So why won't the words come? What is keeping me from telling my husband that another man forced himself upon me?

The deep breath comes out on a long sigh. Another failure.

'It's okay, love,' my husband says softly, leaning forward to press his warm lips gently to my forehead. 'Take your time. Whatever it is that's happened has obviously traumatized you.'

My grip on the front of his tunic tightens. How can I be lucky enough to be married to such a man? My whole life, Arthur has been patient, loving, understanding, humorous, and _wonderful_. When we married shortly after my father's death, Arthur was more than patient: he lived for years putting up with his child bride's fantastic tales of angels and monsters and a true love that was waiting for her. (It had taken a few years for me to realize that I was married already, especially since Arthur, in all his goodness, had waited until after my first menstruation had passed before sharing a bedchamber and consummating our marriage)

There is another sign, only this time it is not mine. Arthur tilts my head up murmuring sweetly, 'My little Mariposa…'

When his lips cover mine, it's all I can do not to throw him off. Arthur would, of course, have understood if I had – more so if I was ever able to tell him exactly what was causing my distress – but something I couldn't quite identify held me back, and the kiss continued…

It was a short kiss, to be sure – meant more to comfort than to excite. But I guess that's what left me speechless after it ended: the fact that every kiss I had shared with my husband was meant either to seduce or to comfort or, more often than not, to meet expectations and traditions.

'Guinevere, are you okay?'

Lancelot's kiss had been none of those, least of all the third. He had brought me into his embrace like it was on some uncontrollable impulse.

'You're shaking, Guinevere…'

If the kiss was not an act of seduction or comfort, what was it for? Taking in a huge gulp of air, I force myself to remember what the kiss had felt like… what had driven those alien lips to claim mine…

'Mariposa…'

'_Mi Mariposa, te amo!_'

My head snaps up at the sound of that voice… I had only heard it for a few minutes, and that had been in the morning hours of the day, but the voice sounds… it feels…

'_Ay, Mariposa, te amo… Mi Mariposa, te amo…_'

I quickly untangle myself from Arthur, falling rather gracelessly to the floor in the process. Scrambling up unaided, I stride impatiently over to the window, where Arthur is already posted, just as curious about the loud, drunken singing as I am.

I have to squint a bit against the garish light of the setting sun, but when I am finally able to see clearly, there he is: Lancelot, yelling the unfamiliar song in a familiar language, and being scolded and half-dragged by a maid in palace livery.

Lancelot seems to notice his new audience of two – although no doubt there are other curious individuals glancing out of the other castle windows, but Lancelot seems to be singling out just me and Arthur… or perhaps just me.

With quite a bit of effort, the inebriated Lancelot pulls himself out of the seemingly angry arms of the maid with him and reaches out towards my window, falling to his knees in the process.

'Mariposa!'

The sound of his voice is heart-wrenchingly, pitiably desperate… but the love that is poured into that single word floods my senses, overwhelms my heart, and drowns my mind with the realization that_this_ is what had driven the kiss – _this_ is what was lacking in all other kisses I had ever shared – _this is it._

Something inside me seems to fall away, revealing more: more of those same kisses, exchanged many times in places and circumstances which seem only hazily remembered, as if they don't quite fit in with the rest of my memories.

But if that's the case, then why is everything else in front of me going blurry, as well? Am I dying? I can't die! I have to go down there – I have to live happily ever after with my soul-mate – I have to experience more love, more passion, more kisses on candlelit picnics that only exist because of the power of the one man in the world who matters more to me than any other… the one who makes my heart beat faster in a pleasant tattoo… the man who, just this morning, I had told to leave me alone forever…

'_Ethan…_'

The darkness overtakes me for only a moment before I fall heavily onto the marble floor, not even bothering to land appropriately.

Another familiar voice welcomes me irritably to Athens. Hands thrust a set of black robes into my arms, the only accompanying explanation being, 'The Tribunal is _furious_.'

* * *

_Hey, guys! Long time no see, huh? _

_Well, I was packing up for spring break when I found this long-lost draft for this chapter, and even though I wrote it while I was unmedicated so it's all angsty and whatnot, I loved some of the descriptions I had thrown in there, so after some quick editing and a sudden realization of just how long it's been since I've updated this fic, I decided to post it! _

_And now comes the evil part... I've left you all on another cliff-hanger, and I don't know when I'm going to be able to update next. I promise, before all of you and God Himself, that I will finish this story, but I don't know how long it is going to take me. I'm going on vacation with a friend for spring break, so I won't be able to write anything during then (I tend to write best when I'm on my own) and then I'm not sure how busy I'll be once I get back to school. So I would like to apologize for the following things:_

_1) For the disgustingly long time it has taken me to update this story.   
2) For the shortness of this chapter -- I know you guys have been waiting a long time for it, and all I can give you are these two pages.   
3) For giving you this chapter completely un-beta'd -- the only person I can share this story with who has read GoT anywhere nearby is a horrible beta. (this apology includes an implied apology for any spelling or grammar or inconsistency errors)  
4) For how long it might take for me to update next. _

_ I would also like to thank all of you for sticking with me, and for being patient... Thank you so much!   
_


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